Echoes of Summer
by Cassandra
Summary: He was left with his lips against her jaw, her figure pressed to him as if she belonged there. One of many moments between the Tenth Doctor and Rose Tyler after he breaks his own rules to retrieve her from Bad Wolf Bay. M chapters included.
1. In the End

**Disclaimer: **Neither Doctor Who nor any characters, items or materials of any kind pertaining to Doctor Who or the Whoniverse belong to me. I'm just looking for a good time. Hee. Trying them out for a bit, see how they fit.

**Plot Summary:** The Doctor retrieves Rose Tyler from Bad Wolf Bay but not without consequences. The walls between worlds begin to fall, two different realities merging. And on the horizon a threat rises that threatens to destroy everything the Doctor holds dear.

**Pairing:** Ten/Rose

**Rating:** Anywhere between a PG13 to an R. I doubt I would go further than that but I have before so I shouldn't exactly close the door on that.

**Spoilers:** Oh yes. Tons of spoilers. All over the place. Probably without even meaning to but that's what happens when you watch all the episodes like you're possessed. So…erm…sorry.

**Timeline:** AU after the end of Series 2. Spoilers up to, including and going past Series 4 though. I've seen all of Series 1 through 4, including the series 4 specials but am not very familiar with the Classic Who much. As such, if I happen to include anything that really touches upon Classic Who, other than it being unintentional, I'll be surprised out of my head. Really. You'll probably see a lot of familiar things in the fic that play into the series of DW. Bear with me, it all ties in together.

**Author's Notes:** I am not from the UK. I'm American. So trying to write someone with a British accent and vocabulary is hard as hell, LOL. And I do not know, at all, the layout of London nor the surrounding areas. So bear with me if you do live in/around London and if my description doesn't sound like home at all. Also, I basically state right off the bat how I view timelines and alternate realities. If you don't agree with it or want to flame me that it doesn't match the Whoniverse, be my guest. But it's not going to change my fic mostly because my fic is basically complete at this point. Thanks for playing though!

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**Echoes of Summer**

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**Prologue - In The End:**

She had known a girl once who had been deeply in love. In love with a man who had seemed almost alien. As if he hadn't belonged to the same existence she had. So much more extraordinary, so much more beautiful. And she had seen nothing when she'd been around this man. Nothing at all.

_This is the last story I'll ever tell._

That was a lie. She lied to herself. That person was her. _She_ had been in love. She had loved a man who had seemed almost alien. He _had_ been an alien, in fact. Brilliant. And she had seen nothing else but him.

_This is the story of how I died._

She had come because he had called for her. In her dreams. He had called for her, whispering. Needing her. His voice, silver moonlight whispering her name, echoed in the dark recesses of her mind and memory, shedding pale light there. His voice floated there comfortingly like a warm blanket that she pulled over her cold body when the night came. It warmed her as his arms had warmed her so many times in their travels.

_"Rose…"_

She moved across the beach, her blond hair whipping about her face as she looked for him. She could hear that voice still, fluid and almost tangible in its whisper. Yearning. Summoning. She refused to believe it was her mind making up his voice. He had called for her. As if he had slept beside her, had awoken in the night and whispered her name against her ear. She had heard him as if he had been that close. She would not doubt that now. Trudging across hard packed sand she lifted her eyes, turning them from her family to look for him. He was here. She could feel him, could smell him on the salty breeze. The scent of Earth mixed with something else. It couldn't be her imagination. He was here.

_"Rose."_

Grimacing against the wind, she gazed straight ahead, out over the water. It was early morning. The sky was gray. Today would determine whether from then on she would hate or love gray mornings. This day would decide it. She inhaled, eyes closing for a moment to block away any vision. She needed to hear him. She needed to feel him. Forcing herself to see something that wasn't there would distract her from hearing something that _could be_ there. Would distract her from feeling him close. And she needed to feel him and hear him because she wasn't sure she would be able to see him.

Feeling the shiver run down her spine she opened her eyes and turned her head to the left. And he was there. Transparent. So transparent. She frowned gently. _She_ was the transparent one in their relationship. She was the one he didn't see no matter how much of herself she showed to him. He didn't deserve to be so indistinct, uncertain standing there. She felt herself turn to face him fully, the breeze feeling as if it melted away and it was just them. The two of them looking at each other over such an expanse. So far away. And her legs were moving once more, now of their own accord, carrying her across the sand to meet him.

"Where are you?" She felt her voice scrape out, faint. As if she hadn't used it in such a long time.

His dark eyes were hollow and she didn't understand. She had seen him like this before. But not as much as now. There had been moments in which he had shut himself down and away from her. But now, gazing at him, she could almost see an entire world, an entire generation of time floating there in his eyes alone. Lines across his pale skin. Jaw clenched as he returned the stare, as if he really couldn't believe deep down that she was before him. "Inside the TARDIS," he replied and his voice was the voice she had dreamt of. For a moment she couldn't remember what he sounded like when he laughed even though she could see images of him smiling and grinning in her mind. Only sound seemed far away then. "There's one tiny little gap in the universe left, just about to close. And it takes a lot of power to send this projection. I'm in orbit around a supernova." The last word caused a tightening in his eyes and to his jaw but then that was eclipsed by the flash of a faint smile, the gentleness of a carefree chuckle yet one that was strangely restrained. "I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye."

Such a pained laugh hidden in those haunted dark eyes, his moonlight paling weakly.

And then as his words sank in, she felt her heart tear slowly, painfully, unbearably. _Goodbye._ She would hate gray mornings. She would hate everything about this day. "You look like a ghost," she managed to say to him, shaking her head slowly.

He seemed to awaken for a moment at her words, resolve crossing his expression. One detail he could fix yet. "Hold on." And he lifted something into his hand, adjusting it almost critically before pointing it at something. The sonic screwdriver, directed at something that she couldn't see. And before her eyes, just as he lowered the screwdriver and lifted his eyes to gaze at her, he came into being. Wonderful brown suit, dark tie. Wounded hearts. His pale face solidified and he was staring at her as if he could reach across to her and touch her. As if he wanted to desperately.

And she would have allowed it. She would have done it first, opened her arms and flung herself at him, never to let go again. If only she'd been given the chance. If only. She came close, slowing before him and even as she was lifting her hand, as she was reaching out to his face reflexively, she realized that his hair did not blow in the winds the way hers did. Nothing surrounding them affected him and her sentence died halfway through. But she hadn't imagined his scent on the breeze earlier, the sound of his voice. Had she? And if that was the case, what else had she imagined? What else was her mind playing with? "Can I t-"

"I'm still just an image," he said quietly in his matter-of-fact way. "No touch."

Her hand fell away numbly, her stomach falling as well deep inside. But she _needed_ it. She needed to touch him. She needed to smell him, to bury herself in his arms and press her cheek to his brown suit and inhale all of him. She required it desperately enough to feel the urge to curl into a ball if she couldn't. "Can't you come through properly?" she asked him, hearing the way the plea almost entered her tone.

His eyes understood. "The whole thing would fracture. If I do that both universes would collapse."

She stared at him, every piece of her seeming to vibrate with the longing to touch him. Buzzing. "So?" She felt the word escape her faintly, throwing everything to the wind with that word. Shrugging everything off. She would sacrifice everything, _anything_, then. Two universes, gladly. Just for that small moment in which to touch him. Just one moment.

But he laughed at that, a mirthless chuckle as his eyes seemed to stare searing holes in her. And she turned her eyes away for a moment, cursing so many things then. The earth for revolving. This reality for existing so far away from him. For separating them. The timelines for being different. Alternate universes. How lonely they were. She turned her gaze back to his face, feeling time as it ran from her. Feeling life as it escaped her. And he seemed to sense it with her as the silence turned painful between them once more.

He looked about, all business. Trying. "Where are we? Where did the gap come out?" His eyes narrowed as they swept the area, the gentle beach in curiosity. He would never change, she understood then. And she had understood before that this was what he was. A curious, brilliant cat. Always distracted, fixated on the diverse. Even in these last moments between them.

"We're in Norway," she replied.

He inhaled deeply, nodding at that. "Norway, right." As if he had known somehow. And then his expression faltered a little bit as if he really couldn't believe they were in Norway of all places. But at the same time as if he really could. As if he had _known_. Did he know? Perhaps he did know. He knew so much always. Still a tinge confused nonetheless and she loved him. For that and so much more.

"About fifty miles out of Bergen," she said and she breathed in the salt water air. "It's called _Darlig Ulv Stranden."_

His face darkened in confusion. "Dalek?" he echoed her, his brows drawing together. And in that small moment, that fleeting second, his expression and tone said everything. Had it been for nothing? The Void, pulling in enemies in a hurricane of metal? Had he sacrificed her for nothing? Did she continue to live in a world he had tried to prevent? The skin stretched across his cheekbones was pale, eyes hard, moonlight fracturing in that gaze.

_"Darlig,"_ she corrected, stressing it. "It's Norwegian for _bad_." She turned her eyes out to the water, feeling lost for a moment as she said quietly, "This translates into _Bad Wolf Bay."_ And she felt a laugh, void of merriment, rise and break from her as he laughed with her in relief. That same laugh. A chuckle almost at how the world was. This was the world, no matter whether an alternate universe or not. This was reality. Cruel. Joking. A childish prankster.

_I am the Bad Wolf._

Her expression strained as the words suddenly came to her in the midst of their pained laughter, as she felt them deep inside for such a small moment. And she found herself gazing aside for the tiniest second before her eyes flew back to him, to hover over his tie blindly, feeling pain inside as well as that strange light from within. _Bad Wolf._ When she raised her eyes to him, to speak to him, his eyes were narrowed once more, studying her intently.

She swallowed painfully, brushing aside that golden voice inside, the one that had been lost for the last year. "How long have we got?"

The expression floated away from his face, as if there was nothing he could do then for anything he may have felt from her. "About two minutes," he replied.

She felt her breath catch, feeling as if time was slipping from her. Two minutes. What could she do, what could she _say,_ in two bloody minutes? She lifted a hand to her forehead weakly, feeling rushed and trampled at once, her chest heaving. There was suddenly nothing to say. She'd had pages and pages of things to say if he had ever found his way back to her, had rehearsed, had allowed her heart to speak to her, beautiful aching words to explain to him what she felt. How much she needed him. How much she needed everything he had ever shown her, all he had ever given her. How she needed more of it, always. And now, standing on this cold beach, with the very person before her waiting, she couldn't think of one single silver word to speak. She said in a laugh filled to the brim with sobs, "I can't think of what to say."

He laughed at that as well, his head bowing, and she gazed at him, tears blurring her vision momentarily. So beautiful in this incarnation, with his breathtaking smile and his wonderful brown suit. A full smile, all teeth and happiness. He had been beautiful in his ninth form. But in this one, youthful and jubilant, it broke her to see the hurt that flittered across his eyes as he lifted them once more to her. And he tore his gaze from her immediately after, as if seeing her pained him. As if he couldn't bear her face. It never should have been that way between them. His eyes swept to the side, to look behind her and she understood that he was looking at the three people who had accompanied her to this remote beach. Her family.

"You've still got Mr. Mickey then?" he said in an undertone with a small nod at the dark-skinned fellow who waited for her with her mother and father in the background.

Her head turned slightly in their direction, not all the way. "There's five of us now," she said, her eyes shifting off back to the water, hair floating about her face. "Mum, dad, Mickey…" and she hesitated, nodding gently, "and the baby."

Even as she slowly said it his eyes were widening, his gaze caught to her. Lips parting, he said quietly, "You're not…" And the expression on his face seemed one of confusion almost, as if he thought quickly as he waited for her answer.

In that small moment, the one that seemed to span an eternity between them, she took her time to smile at him as if she owned a secret. And she couldn't do that to him, couldn't bear that look on his face. Smiling gently she shook her head at him. "No," she replied and she felt a small laugh bubble inside at the expression on his face.

_I would wait for you forever._

"It's mum," she revealed and he let out a breath of a laugh himself, almost seemingly relieved, as she brushed a lock of windblown hair from her face. "She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way."

His eyes fell away from her family far in the background, standing on the beach. And they hesitated on her, came to rest on her with a tender protectiveness. His expression seemed to speak to her.

_Your family is happy. Are you?_

"And what about you? Are you…" he began.

She gazed at him, nodding slightly. "Yeah," she cut him off, eyes straying to the water. "I'm…I'm back working in the shop."

His posture seemed to straighten and then fall heavily at her words. As if he resigned himself to them. "Oh," he said with a stiff nod. "Good for you."

She looked at him.

_And __**I'm**__ the ape._

"Shut up," she chided him gently and his eyes caught to hers quickly as he waited for her to explain. "No, I'm not. Torchwood on this Earth's open for business. Think I know a thing or two about aliens." And as she said it her voice broke painfully, as she looked at him. She knew a thing or two about aliens. Maybe not the one standing before her, so close she could envelop him in her arms. But just enough.

His face lightened as he laughed in pride, a wide grin full of perfect teeth, all his emotions laid bare there in his expression. "Rose Tyler. Defender of the Earth."

She gazed at him, feeling herself gasp in a breath as her emotion reared up once more, tears clogging her throat. She thought of Christmas, with Mickey and her mum, when his face had still been new.

_It is defended._

He turned his eyes from her, as if he couldn't bear to continue to look at her, at the tears rising in her eyes at the very image of him. What did he see there, when he looked in her eyes? Echoes of a once brilliant summer, now dying perhaps. It was how she felt then. As if she lay dying before him. And as if to further prove it, his next words chilled her. "You're dead." He said it stonily with a hard swallow before continuing on in clarification. "Officially. Back home."

She nodded, her face frozen in a mask of pain and sorrow. And as he continued she couldn't look at him for a moment either, feeling she would break in two as he went on, firmly, his voice detached. She needed him to feel his words the way she did. To not speak of her as if she really was dead. And she suddenly needed to reach out to him, to stop him from leaving her. As if the very action would tether him to this world.

_Don't go. Don't go, don't go, don't go._

"So many people died that day and you've gone missing," he was explaining, his face hard and matter of fact about the entire situation. As if it merited it. As if _she_ merited it. "You're on the list of the dead."

Her shoulders hunched at his words, her head falling in agony. And even as he continued, his voice stronger, willing her to believe that it was better this way, she lifted a hand to her face, thumb trailing across her lip and nose as she wept.

"Yet here you are," he persisted, looking at her, pride shining there once more. "Living your life day after day." And a small shadow of yearning hovered in his tone as he bowed his head to gaze at her, the fragile cheer gently floating away. "The one adventure I can never have."

She stared at him, holding her breath. For fear. Fear that if she spoke then, at any moment, she would dissolve into nothing. He waited for her patiently as she tried to force the lump down, as she struggled to say something. Her eyes streaked away for a moment, lifting away to question. But there was no questioning anything. Only dwelling on what had brought them to this point. Then, pushing past the block, she asked, "Am I ever going to see you again?" And halfway through her sentence she broke into sobs, feeling her face redden in pain. She lifted her hand back to her head, brushing back locks of loose hair.

And he hesitated in his response.


	2. Five and a Half Hours

**Chapter One - Five and a Half Hours:**

He had asked her to wait for him. Five and a half hours. No more. He would be back for her in five and a half hours. She had believed him. If he had asked her for five hours. Five days. Five years. She would have given it all to him. Because if he said he could do something, he would do it. And when she had asked if she would ever see him again, he had paused, a long, thoughtful pause.

And then he had asked for five and a half hours.

Her family waited with her still, her mother coming close every so often to ask if she needed anything, to ask how long she would wait. She had told her forever. She would wait forever if he had asked it of her. And her mother's face had fallen, pained, at her words. But she hadn't argued with her daughter, instead giving her a sandwich to munch on while she had waited.

And she had continued to wait.

He would come for her. Nothing was impossible for him. If he didn't do something it was because there was reason for him not to. Perhaps two universes on the verge of imploding. Something along those lines. But if he said he would be back for her, he would. He would be back for her.

Having seated herself on the dry sand, far enough away from the water but still close enough to taste the salt in the air, she looked out blindly over the angry waves. Somewhere out there he was doing something to reach her. There was a small vision, a flash, of him hovering beside the console of the TARDIS, useless glasses propped on his nose, a delicate frown marring his brow. Examining, testing. Making calculations. Running about frenetically as he entered those calculations, as he pondered results. Not the result he had expected? That was fine. He would try again. He had five and a half hours.

He had all of time at his fingertips.

Somewhere out there, the man, the _alien_ she loved was fighting to make his way back to her. And when he arrived, she was going to go. In the night his ghostly voice had woken her up to shafts of moonlight that strongly resembled what she felt his soul would look like. A dark room with silver slants of light. And she had told her family everything. How he had called to her. How he still called to her. And she had told them in no uncertain terms that when he came for her that she would go. They had all said their goodbyes. Maybe not aloud but they had been acknowledged. The moment he appeared and the TARDIS materialized in the sand before her, she would waste only a moment to throw them one last look before taking his hand and leaving with him.

Her mother had broken down in tears. Her father had understood. And Mickey. Well. Mickey's face had fallen in unspoken defeat. She had tried to explain once more that he had seen it all with her, that he should _understand_. That he had accompanied her in the TARDIS before and that she couldn't give it up. All one adventure. And Mickey had understood that detail. All one adventure. He had succumbed to it when she had left him behind in this alternate universe, had willingly accepted this new and sudden fate. And he had jumped at the one chance proudly, purposefully.

How could she be any different?

And so, in the golden light of the flames of the fireplace that night, sitting across from her family, she had told them she had heard her Doctor's voice. She had let them know that she had to go, that she had to see him. That if he extended his hand to her she would take it for all she was worth and she would go.

In the early morning they had all jumped into the jeep, hearts pounding, and had just gone. She'd had no idea where he was, where he would be waiting, but his voice had guided her in her mind. This road. This breeze called to her from the North. The left road when they had come to the fork. He had been her guide even from an alternate universe, as if he could reach across the gap. She had imagined ghostly fingers brushing across hers, gentle, and then winding around her own and pulling her along.

The sandwich was forgotten in her hand. She set it down, her eyes trailing toward her family. Her mother's legs dangled out the door from where she sat in the passenger side, one hand pressed to her abdomen as she spoke quietly with her father. Her father. She cocked her head a bit at that. He wasn't her father. But she loved him just as much as if he had been all these years. She remembered telling him, in her real world, how he had read her bedtime stories. Her real father. It hadn't been him, he had replied. She gazed at the man with her mother. Maybe this time around, he would be that kind of parent. Now that he had seen for himself what kind of person his daughter would have turned out to be had she'd existed in his world. Maybe it was incentive enough to be the kind of father who would be there for a child. Picnics. Bedtime stories. A real family. She was almost saddened by the thought that she could miss it.

And then the wind changed.

She turned her head, eyes searching the beach quickly. On that wind came the sound she had come to miss in the last few months that she'd been trapped on this alternate world. The gentle thrum of the TARDIS echoed faintly, the sound swirling around her as if to caress her. She brushed locks of hair from her face, eyes widening as she searched. Not yet. Not yet. Dropping her eyes to her wrist, she checked the time. Two hours. Surely not yet. She had only been waiting for two hours.

He had asked for five and a half.

The sound was closer, stronger now. And straining. She jumped to her feet instantly, her eyes flying about. Where was he? Where was he? The sound seemed to come from far away and yet so close. As if the breeze that carried the thrum of the TARDIS threatened to tease her as well. She looked over her shoulder, turning almost in a full circle as she searched for the phone box.

To the side her mother came out of the jeep, her father also looking around in confusion. Mickey lifted himself away from the hood of the jeep, lifting his head to listen to the wind.

_I'm not imagining this. This is really happening._

The sound came stronger, closer. She hesitated, waiting for it. It would do her no good to keep looking if it wasn't here yet. No doubt he was having a terrible time coming into this world from his. But it wasn't impossible. And the smile that broke across her face as the TARDIS sounded ever closer was enough to light the darkest world. She allowed it to lift her expression, lift her head, blond hair flying in the cold salty breeze as she listened to it, as she almost welcomed the phone box to this world that she desperately wanted to leave behind. Closing her eyes she allowed the thrum of the TARDIS to wash over her completely, to vibrate through her skin and limbs, through to her very heart. And she felt like she was going to burst in golden beautiful light. A very familiar gold light that warmed her gently at first, slowly becoming so much stronger, so much hotter. Her smile faded away as she merely hovered in that heat. She was so warm. Like being held in a tight yet tender embrace.

_Is this what it feels like to be embraced, to be loved, by the TARDIS?_

The heart of the TARDIS. She vaguely remembered what it had felt like when it had been inside her. So many voices that had become one mesmerizing tone running through her completely. If the voice had been a color, it would have been this molten gold. Exactly this color. A small breath escaped her shakily, and she imagined it, she had to have as her eyes opened into slits.

Gold dust seemed to hover around her frame, overhead in a haze of wonderful brilliance. She gazed at the cloud, eyes opening further as she stared. And it was warm, that dust, as it shimmered and floated, dancing down on her gently before shooting back up as if blown by a breeze. She almost believed it had come out of her to float out into this alternate world, to color it gold. She watched the dust glow and fly in lazy silence, her fingers spreading and clenching at her sides as she found that she didn't want to move from this spot, from how she held herself. She wanted to stay in this warmth forever. Her head fell forward, eyes heavy.

Before her, the TARDIS flickered, awash in that same hovering gold dust. She snapped back to herself, back to reality, her lips parting.

He was coming.

The TARDIS seemed to strain, to struggle to appear. The beach was visible clear through it but the outline was materializing, the sturdy wooden box pulsing. Thrumming. The light at its head was blinking erratically, faint in this near afternoon light. She waited for it, her chest beginning to heave almost with the same exertion the TARDIS seemed to experience merely to come into this world. All around it, the gold light shimmered, the phone box throbbing once, twice. Pounding at an invisible wall that she hadn't even realized was there but had always been there, always present.

_The veil between worlds. The Void._

She lowered her eyes to her hands, staring at the gold dust that pulsed around them even as the TARDIS did, watching as they beat in time together, ship and light. Looking up, she felt a fine trembling rise in her, golden ripples of adrenaline washing through her as the TARDIS throbbed in golden light, as it brightened considerably. And then, just as quickly as it had begun to appear, it settled there on the beach before her, coming into being at last. Feeling the prickling running through her like pins and needles she waited, her heart pounding, her mind completely and blissfully blank.

There was nothing but silence for a long moment. A moment that seemed to take much too long to pass. And then the door was thrown open and he poked his head out, jaw hanging open as he looked about curiously. "Am I late?" he asked, his eyes trailing over the golden dust that shimmered all around them triumphantly.

She felt a gasping laugh break from her, feeling suddenly limp as if she had just run an exhilarating race. "You're early," she answered him faintly, feeling tears begin to gather in her throat. She had never forgotten his voice, in the few months she had been stranded here. And to hear it now, it was suddenly different from the voice that had called to her in the night.

He seemed taken aback by her reply though he still hadn't even looked in her direction. "Early? Am I?" And he nodded, turning his head from the vanishing dust to examine the side of the TARDIS. "Good girl," he crooned. "Can always find her way. Even with me driving."

She waited for him rigidly as he inspected his ship, as he murmured to himself absentmindedly.

"A true void ship if there ever was one, finally." His expression scrunched up as he mused. "Well, unless you count that other one. But really, Dalek technology. Probably stolen from some unfortunate Time Lord long ago."

She waited still, feeling filled to the brim with a sudden wave of complete and utter emotion. Hearing his voice as he spoke to himself, patting down the side of the phone box, waving as he rambled on. And he still hadn't even looked in her direction. He had a new suit, dark blue in color under his brown coat. Red tie. The ensemble complimented him, she felt as she studied him anxiously. Watching his hair as it blew with the salty wind, knowing that he was here. Within reach.

Even with the dust shimmering around her hand, she realized suddenly that she had unconsciously lifted it toward him, splaying her fingers to reach. To touch. And still doubting that she would feel him under her fingers.

He turned and finally looked at her, standing straight, his dark eyes coming to rest on her and quickly flickering to her outstretched hand. He broke off in mid-sentence, hesitating as he merely stared at her glowing hand for a long moment. Then, seeing a gentle frown mar her forehead, he reached out toward her as well, his eyes shifting up to meet hers. She saw the moonlight there, the darkness behind it. And she recognized it. Had seen it before, surrounded by blue irises. The same man with a different face but with the same light in his eyes.

Then those eyes darted to her right, his hand pausing in mid-reach before recoiling slightly.

Rose felt the presence of someone else at her side and she turned her head, her own hand slowly settling beside her limp frame once more as Mickey came to a sudden stop behind her. She looked at him and then past him to her mother and father who still waited beside the jeep. Only now, as she stared at them, she felt their defeat, felt as they gave in. Her eyes streaking back to Mickey, she gazed at him as he looked from the dissipating gold dust around her to the Doctor and then back again. And then, also with a sigh of submission, he merely held out her backpack to her.

Looking at it for a long moment, tears suddenly rising in her eyes, she took it into a dimming hand and then simply let it fall to the hard beach, her head bowing. She knew what it meant, what this moment had always been leading to. With a small whimper of a sob she flung herself at Mickey and threw her arms around his neck, burying her head in his collar. She felt when he returned the embrace, his arms tight and almost painful around her.

"This is it then," he said to her quietly, his breath warm along her face and hair, so very familiar and comforting. But not the one she wanted to be held by. "This is what you wanted, Rose. What you've been wanting. Don't cry now of all times."

She laughed painfully, nodding against his neck as he trailed a hand through her hair.

"You'll be ok, yeah?" he asked her, pulling back a bit to bend down toward her and grasp her suddenly cold face between warm hands.

She nodded, eyes and face reddening, one hand lifting to brush back wild hair as it blew across her face.

"Yeah?" he demanded again loudly, a faint smile there on his face.

"Yeah!" she burst out with a teary laugh, feeling as if she could cry and laugh at the same time, forever. But the cheer died away once more, leaving only sorrow. But not regret. Never regret when it came to her Doctor.

And Mickey saw it. His lips tightened into a firm line, his hands on her face loosening before dropping away altogether. Then he was bending down, lifting her backpack again. "All this…gold dust. Don't know where it came from," he mumbled. And he held out the backpack to her once more. "Anyway. It's time to go."

This time, as she took it with faintly glowing hands, she did not drop it beside her. Crossing it in front of her legs to hold it with both hands, she merely gazed at him in silence for a long moment. And he returned the stare, his jaw clenched before looking toward the TARDIS.

"Doctor," he said courteously, nodding at him.

She didn't turn to see the look on the Doctor's face but he heard the resignation in his voice as he said, "Mickey," in return. But then Mickey smiled and she felt the same smile carry across to the Doctor's face, seeing it in her mind, starting slow but then widening into a quirky smile that only he could carry.

With a nod to herself, she looked down at the backpack in her grasp. "Will you…tell them?" she asked Mickey and she let her eyes skirt over toward her mother and father but didn't allow them to remain there. "Tell them…that I love them?"

Because she just wouldn't be able to do it then. She wouldn't be able to look at her mother and tell her goodbye once more. It had broken her earlier and she just wouldn't be able to do it again, to know that she was leaving her behind even if she was better off here than in her original world.

Mickey looked at her, his eyes soft. "They know, Rose."

She nodded once more at his words, inhaling deeply. And then she lifted her head to look at her parents anyway, her throat working around that painful lump lodged there. They seemed to wait for her, her mother nestled in the crook of her father's arm. She merely stared at them for a moment, her fingers tightening restlessly on the straps of her backpack. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand, holding it in the air over her head. And as she did so she realized that the gold dust was finally gone, the last bits of it flying on the wind, almost carrying in their direction.

Her mother faltered halfway through returning a smile and turned her head into her father's chest as her father returned the wave.

"I'll never know what they're going to name him," she whispered faintly, watching them blindly. "Or if it's even a boy. Maybe it'll be a girl."

Mickey smiled at the thought. "Maybe they'll finally get their Rose."

She paused at that, uncertain how to feel about it. "Maybe."

Behind her, the Doctor shifted. "Rose."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, his voice seeming to reverberate clear through her.

His face was somber, arms crossed over his chest, long frame leaning against the side of the TARDIS as he said quietly, "We have to go." And then a small fleeting expression crossed his face for a tiny moment as he added, "Or you don't, you know. You can…" He wound down to silence, leaving his words hanging in the salty breeze reluctantly.

She stared at him. "Stay?" she supplied, feeling stiffness seep into her frame at the mere thought.

His lips still parted from having spoken, he closed them slowly and then fixed her with a blank expression, head bowing. And she knew that expression well. The one that stated he would never push her to do anything she didn't want to do, even if it hurt him.

"I'm going," she stated firmly and he lifted his head once more, one side of his mouth quirking up in a gentle smile. Turning back to Mickey, she looked at him, her hair blowing across her face.

And he nodded. "Yeah." With a similar smile on his face as well.

Finally allowing her own smile to come out, she returned his nod. And then she turned slowly, turning her face from Mickey and her mother and father, and she floated those last few steps toward the TARDIS doors, looking up at the Doctor as she came to pause before him.

He was tall and she'd always had to raise her head to him. She'd never minded before and she wasn't about to start now. His smile had spread across his face once more and when they locked eyes she could feel how genuine that smile for her really was. "Welcome back," he said quietly as he hesitated one small moment, seeming to enjoy standing so close to her. Then, almost politely, he stepped aside.

Crossing the doorway into the TARDIS, she sent him back the same small smile, gazing at him over her shoulder. "I never left. But thanks," she replied.

The Doctor watched her as she stepped in fully, her head bowing. And as she walked up the ramp, her eyes lifting to gaze around the inside of the TARDIS, he looked at Mickey once more. "Are you sure you still want to stay?" he asked him.

Mickey's lips tightened once more, jaw clenching. But he was quick with his answer, his nod firm. "Yeah. There's still stuff to do here. This world still needs some help." And he continued to nod, almost as if to convince himself.

The Doctor stared at him, his expression thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose so," he said to that. And he cocked his head toward the younger man. "But then, they have the best working for them. I suspect given a bit of time, it'll be just like home."

Mickey looked at him, a quick glance, and the Doctor smiled faintly back. With a quirky grin returned to the taller man, he said, "It's already home, mate." And he nodded, eyes shifting to the inside of the TARDIS but no longer seeing Rose inside. "You'll take care of her. I don't have to tell you that."

The Doctor pursed his lips, shaking his head as his eyes shifted sideways at the mere thought. He knew it. He'd always done it. From this moment on it would be no different. Shifting a bit, looking down as he scuffed a trainer across the doorway of the TARDIS, he nodded at an unanswered question. "Take care of yourself, Mickey the Idiot," he murmured. And he looked at him once more, only for a second before his eyes flew to Rose's parents off in the distance. He motioned to them with a small motion of his head, hands falling away to settle into his pockets. "And them as well."

Mickey nodded at that. "'Course."

Hesitating even after he had received the answer he had wanted, the Doctor merely observed him before nodding one last time. And then with a last measured glance he rose away from the frame of the TARDIS and floated in like a ghost, disappearing inside as the door closed for the last time.

And Mickey backed away, hands finding their way into his own pockets as he waited.


	3. Explanations

**Chapter Two - Explanations**

When he came up beside her at the TARDIS console, he said nothing. He removed his coat and flung it aside on the jump seat absentmindedly, already handling the controls. It was time to go. She waited as he fiddled with several of the levers and buttons, yanking the small screen to the side to face him as he studied it, as he redid calculations. She didn't understand a word or picture that flew across the screen, the small diagrams and numbers that appeared. She supposed she didn't have to. As long as he did. Inhaling soundlessly, she allowed her eyes to trail from the monitor to his face, hesitating for a moment on the prominent cheekbones as they seemed to almost glow in the pale blue and gold light that was the console of the TARDIS.

Standing up straight, a hand rising to run through his wild dark hair and leaving it even wilder than it had been a moment before, he asked, "What do you say to leaving now?" And he looked at her, lifting his other hand and reaching into an inside suit jacket pocket. He produced his glasses and easily slipped them on, peering at her owlishly from behind them.

She gazed at him, her throat suddenly dry. She wanted to say it was a great idea. One of the best she had ever heard. Brilliant, in fact. _Hurry_. But somehow all those words bottled up inside and all she could really muster was an inaudible breath, her lips parting. She hadn't even realized she was trembling until she felt her hand brush the console at her side and still the tremors momentarily.

He seemed to understand her loss of words, his face saddening slightly as she continued to fight through a wall of silence. One hand reaching up to push his glasses up and back onto his untamed hair, he lifted the other hand gingerly, fingers curling as his palm pressed to her cheek. Almost as if to assure himself that she was really there. And convincing her that she had thought correctly, he stated in a whisper, "You _are_ here, aren't you."

She stared at him, feeling tears spring to her eyes at the hoarseness in his tone. "Yeah. 'Course I am," she managed to make out. And she felt as if she strained, gazing at him, forcing each word out and feeling it scrape as they came. "How long have I been gone?" she asked him desperately, her voice raspy.

He didn't reply to that for a moment, his eyes dark, flashing his inner moonlight, his expression heavy. And she didn't understand, her frame stiff and tight, thinking how easily she could break with just one wrong word he said to her.

"Doctor, please," she prodded him anxiously.

He turned his eyes from her as she pleaded, instead moving a hand back to the controls. But he maintained his other palm against her cheek, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing a tender spot along her neck. "Doesn't matter," he said curtly. And he made a small gesture, as if to release her. But then, shaking his head to himself, he instead turned to her.

And she moved at the same time, her arms lifting of their own accord and taking hold of him by the waist tightly. He was pushed up against the console by the mere force of her but he went wordlessly, his other hand leaving the controls to take hold of her firmly. She pressed herself into him, her face turning into his collar reflexively and they fit the way they had always fit, as if they had never been separated. His chest rose and then fell once more, a soft sigh escaping him and she heard it against her ear, her shoulders heaving as she suddenly began to cry against his frame. She felt foolish then, weeping like a small child. But he said nothing, one arm wrapped securely up her back, the other leaving her face, managing to wrestle free to grasp the back of her head and drag her closer, if it were even possible. Merely holding her head to his chest as she sobbed, his chin coming to push against her forehead as he bowed his head to hers.

"I was scared," she managed to make out in between her strained sobs. "I don't know…that _life_ anymore! I don't know how to…just _be_ on Earth! I don't know…" And she shook her head, inadvertently knocking into his chin but his arms simply tightened, his breath warm against her hairline. "I don't know that life anymore and I didn't want to go back-"

She broke off and he remained silent, feeling as if the mere presence of words in that silence would desecrate it. Leaning against the console, he took her entire weight against him, holding her as if he would never let go. He was so slender in her arms, he always had been. But as she fell apart in his embrace she realized that he was so much stronger. Physically and emotionally, he was just so much more.

"There's nothing to be afraid of anymore," he said to her, his mouth moving against her forehead. "I promise you. Nothing."

She nodded at his words slightly, her breathing slowing rapidly. "I know," she replied to that. And as if stricken, she pulled away from his arms slightly, her head bowed still. He allowed her reluctantly, one hand still resting along her back, the other refusing to leave its curled position from the back of her head. Inhaling shakily and managing a silly wet laugh, she looked up at him, her cheer seeming strained. "It's still new," she offered by way of awkward explanation, aware of the tear tracks still on her face, watching as his eyes focused on them mournfully. "All this, coming back-"

"Of course," he said to that, nodding quickly at her. And he dropped his hands away from her, settling instead along her arms, nonetheless refusing to let go of her completely. But he sensed that she was perfectly fine with that, her smile genuine if a bit ashamed that she would fall apart so easily. Quickly looking for something, _anything_, to distract her from their reunion, he asked, "Would you like to know how I did it?" And his sudden excitement brought a laugh and a misty wide smile to her face. "It's _brilliant!_ If I do say so myself!"

"Tell me, tell me!" she prodded him eagerly, a hand lifting and swiping away tear tracks. "Tell me all of it!"

A dazzling smile breaking across his own face, he released her completely only to take hold of her hand in a firm grip and yank her arm almost out of its socket. _"Huon particles!"_ he shouted at her, dragging her closer to the small screen on the console. And as her smile faltered a little bit in confusion he seemed to measure her expression. "Huon particles? Nothing? Nothing at all?" he stressed, gauging her reaction.

She sighed shakily, still so completely lost and yet-

_Completely in love. I am completely in love with him._

"Ok," the Doctor said, brushing off her confusion. He lifted his hand and lowered the glasses to his nose once more, his expression adorable as she gazed at him in his excitement. "Huon particles are found in the heart of the TARDIS," he explained, and even as he spoke he was tapping several buttons on the console, bringing up a diagram of the TARDIS onscreen. He motioned, instantly rambling, "Back in our dark ages, we, and by we I mean Time Lords, had created something called Huon particles. Mind you, we abandoned the research. Huon particles were potentially lethal, even to our own kind. But there are Huon Particles in the heart of the TARDIS. Knowing that, I guessed, literally _guessed_," he exclaimed and as he looked at her his expression shifted. "Hoped, actually," he corrected himself. And his face softened, his hand tightening on hers reflexively. "_Hoped_ that there would still be Huon particles in you, after you had taken in the heart of the TARDIS to come back for me on Satellite 5. And there were!" His expression brightened considerably once more, his hands lifting to grasp her by her face, her own features still very much confused. "Dormant, of course. The Huon particles in you lay dormant once I had taken the heart of the TARDIS from you and returned it to the ship. But they were still there, without you even being aware!"

She stared at him, her face worried. "Potentially lethal, you said," she murmured, her brown eyes widening ever so slowly. "I mean, potentially lethal and…they're in me?" And she looked at him for an explanation, looking completely lost yet apprehensive.

He hesitated, his hands still grasping her by the face. "Well, yes. But dormant. Did I mention dormant?" And he shook her, bringing her face close to his. "But it doesn't matter. The TARDIS removed the remaining particles once you were reunited with it on Bad Wolf Bay. You had a fair amount in your system from before, on Satellite 5. I couldn't take it all out of you when I retrieved the heart of the TARDIS from you. But there was still so very little in your system after, not enough to worry over. But just enough to summon the TARDIS to you!" And his hands tightened on her face, squeezing her cheeks and puffing them up against her lips so that she effectively resembled a blowfish. _"Brilliant!"_

"Brilliant," she echoed him through puckered lips, sounding still very much confused.

"Yes!" he crowed in accord with her agreement. "Huon particles activate other Huon particles. So I knew, or _guessed_ as I mentioned before, that since you had Huon particles in you that the TARDIS would recognize them and attempt to activate the ones in you. And did it!" His eyes lit up once more, his excitement almost contagious.

If only she understood a word he was saying.

"The TARDIS recognized the particles in you and attempted, _attempted,_ to cross the Void to activate those particles." He shook her as if to shake sense into her. "Can you imagine that? Crossing the Void to an entirely different world to find, to _activate,_ particles that it recognized?" He released one cheek, motioning to the inside of the ship. "The TARDIS is incredible!"

"Incredible," she chimed in with a short, very confused, nod.

This time, finally releasing her, he instead took hold of her hand once more and maneuvered her to look at the screen as he motioned. "However incredible the TARDIS is, conversely," he went on, a slender finger pointing at the diagram onscreen, "it does not have the energy, doesn't have enough power, to cross the Void without causing some kind of damage. To do so would literally collapse both universes." He tapped the screen and another diagram sprung up, rotating. "When I last saw you, when I projected the image through one of the last breaches, I had the TARDIS harness the massive energy of a supernova."

She looked at him. "Yeah, I remember. Two hours ago. Burning up a sun. Just to say goodbye." And her face paled slightly merely thinking of it and all the emotions she had felt, all the tears she had cried in the last couple of hours alone.

He glanced at her as he heard her words, his excitement fading a bit into stunned thoughtfulness. "Two hours?" he echoed her in blank confusion for a moment. Then, dawning realization seeming to cross his features, he uttered, "Right!" And he gazed at her, speechless for a moment, his face strained. The stillness was shared between them both, eyes caught in that complete and heavy silence.

Her lips pressing together into a firm line, expression soft, she reached a hand out and pressed it to his face, thumb brushing an angular cheekbone gently.

His eyes closed at her touch, a breath leaving his frame almost with a rattle, his shoulders settling. And as she trailed her thumb tenderly across his cheekbone and then the gaunt hollow of his cheek, his eyes came open to stare at her, wordlessly. She didn't know what she saw there but the depths of his eyes had no floor and no measure. She could've seen straight into his soul if she stared just long enough. And she didn't like the sorrow that filled those deep eyes.

"Tell me," she prodded him lightly. "I'm not used to you being so quiet. There has to be a law against it in some universe or another." And a smile broke over her face at her words.

His eyes widening for a small moment, he quickly recovered enough to immediately point a stern finger at her in reprimand. "As I was saying before I was _rudely_ interrupted," he began, those midnight eyes now chiding her gently. "I had the TARDIS control the energy of a supernova. Which I admit, even for myself, it's a bit tough to control!"

She nodded at him in feigned understanding.

"But!" And he motioned to the screen once more which now seemed to hold the diagram of an entire solar system. "Imagine the immense energy of a hypernova!" And he let out a groan as if it could only be the most beautiful thing to behold in all of time and space.

She paused before asking. "What's a hypernova?"

He hesitated, his entire frame brimming with energy. "A _supernova_ is a stellar explosion. This much you know?" he asked and he glanced at her quickly, only looking relieved when she nodded. "A _hypernova_ is the same as a supernova but larger. Originally it was defined as a supernova only one hundred times more powerful. It was discovered by your fellow man, and my own kind," he added quickly, "that it's not quite that powerful, but powerful enough." And he eyed her as he said it, making sure she was still with him on the subject. "For a hypernova to occur in your galaxy would be very rare indeed. Every two hundred _million_ years. But hypernovas occur all over the universe, not often but enough that I would have one at my disposal."

She stared at him numbly. "Disposal?"

He paused at the word. "Well, yes," he replied. And he stabbed at the screen once more. "When I first ventured out in search of a hypernova, I found none in our current time. But I knew, with the strength of a hypernova, it wouldn't _matter_ the time. Be it present day or five billion years in your future, the enormous power of a hypernova to power the TARDIS' search for your Huon particles would nonetheless force the TARDIS to materialize exactly where the Huon particles were, even dormant."

She swallowed, feeling that she understood but worried still.

"So, with a little tweaking, inputting your coordinates into this exact time, it was only natural that, seeing as how you were not in your actual world, it would travel to this current time in search of you and then find you instead in this completely parallel world. The Rose in this world never existed. I knew this when putting in the search parameters. But Rose in general, Rose Tyler, exists in several different universes. And they all have timelines, you see, these alternate universes. One small difference can spark off a new timeline in that universe. You have tea one morning and the next day you have coffee. That could potentially start a new timeline. Everything you do from that moment on, because you had coffee instead of tea, can create a completely different world inside a completely different universe. It's fantastic!"

She merely stared at him wordlessly.

"The only problem would be having two of you in one universe, the you from that universe and the you from this universe. Two Mickeys, for example. That was a bad idea from the start. But because you never existed here, inputting coordinates to find you would bring the TARDIS to you _here_ because you're here _now_. At this time. And the TARDIS did find you, the real you, here. So it…basically…" And he broke off, seeming a bit uncomfortable with the next part.

"Basically?" she prodded.

He grimaced, a finger lifting and shoving the glasses further up his nose awkwardly. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, hands finding their way into his pockets, he said, "Basically…punched a hole into this alternate world." And the rest of that sentence came out quickly and in a whoosh, his entire frame turning from her as if he knew immediately how she would take the explanation.

She gaped at him. "It _what?_" she asked him in disbelief.

He scratched at his ear, still wincing. "Yes. Well. In simple terms, that's what it did. Punched. Because the force of a hypernova behind it is just…_immense,_" he explained quickly and he threw her a look of awe. "Just _so_ immense, it was beautiful, really. All the breaches were closed. I had to create a new one. The TARDIS still had a hard time even with the force of a hypernova powering it. And I didn't just punch my way in here without thinking about the repercussions. The TARDIS is maintaining the breach, correcting it," he explained. And he paused. "Just goes to show, really."

She was still gaping at him. "Goes to bloody show _what?"_ she demanded.

He blinked at her as if he found her question silly. "Goes to show that tampering in alternate worlds is not allowed," he said, stressing the final word in his sentence, tongue curling. "Imagine the sheer force a supernova creates. All it did was allow me to send out an _image_ to you even with a breach already in _place_. A _supernova."_ He bent forward a little bit as he spoke to her, staring at her and willing her to understand. "A hypernova, being a hundred times stronger, it's like using a hammer to punch a nail into place with a hole already there from a previous nail. Should've slipped right in like a well fitting shoe, really. Had there been a breach still in place."

She stuck her tongue out a bit, running it over the inside of her teeth as she stared at him thoughtfully, her hand lifting to her forehead. "So, is this going to be a problem? Going back to the real world?"

He shook his head. "Not a bit. The fissure has already been created. To go back through it is easy. Once we're through, in fact, the TARDIS is going to repair the breach. It used the energy of the hypernova to contain the breach while I was here as well which is just…astounding, really. Like cracks from that fissure, it contained the fracture to prevent those cracks, to prevent _anything_ from…from…"

"Cracking," she supplied helpfully.

He bent his head as he hunched toward her, his voice turning a bit husky, his tone almost patronizing. As if congratulating a small child for a picture. "From further cracking! Ooh, Rose Tyler, you are brilliant!" And he flung his arms open wide at her. With a little giggle she threw herself into his embrace, their laughter ringing out in the silent thrum that was the TARDIS and he lifted her clear off the floor, her legs kicking.

Even with the quiet of the TARDIS, this was right. Perfect. His scent, his breath as he laughed, his lean arms tight around her waist and up her back, her own arms clinging him tightly, as if never willing to let him go. Just right, this embrace.

And when he lowered her back to the grated floor of the TARDIS, releasing her but holding her hands in his firmly, her smile was wider than she'd had it in such a long time. That one silent moment between them that went on forever, it was all she could ever want, all she could ever hope to hold on to if they were to ever part again.

Stepping away from her, one hand leaving hers, he flicked a switch as he spoke once more, staring at the screen. "We're already through, speaking of. Or rather, going back to what we were talking about earlier."

She blinked. "We are?"

He nodded. "Yep. Like I said, not an issue to return. Now all I need to do is…" He frowned a bit as he worked, punching in more calculations, "use the energy once more and channel it to repairing that breach. She's storing an immense amount of the energy for future use should she need it, recycling it continuously." He paused thoughtfully. "Not that we'll need it. What would we need it for? Risky popping back and forth between universes. Shouldn't do that again, really."

She waited, nodding to herself as well. This was it then. Once he was done she would be stuck right back in her own world, her own time. Anywhere in her own time. It was all hers again by his side. Her eyes trailed over to him as she thought it, her heart pounding. He had released one of her hands to work the console but his remaining hand continued to hold hers tightly. As if he would never again let go.

"She's a bit sluggish returning…" he murmured quietly, almost to himself. "Ah. You'll be all right, won't you?" His other hand came down to caress the controls of the console for a swift moment as he spoke gently to the TARDIS console, Rose watching him silently. Frowning a bit behind the glasses as the blue and gold glow from the TARDIS brought his features out further, he hesitated, gazing at the display. "Where do you want to go first?" he asked, looking over to her after a hushed moment. As she lifted her gaze to his once more he let a small smile curl his lips mischievously.

"Anywhere," she said to him, suddenly breathless. As he peered at her, she tightened her grip, fingers curling around his. "Absolutely anywhere you want to go."

He paused for a long moment, blinking at her owlishly through his smile. And then, the smile fading the smallest bit, he said, "I think I have an idea where to go." He nodded to himself, tapping in several coordinates. "Set for…once the TARDIS completes the breach repair." And then, seeming to remember something, he grimaced. "Ooh. Maybe not that exact time. Let's go before then. Wouldn't want to run into myself." And he smiled as if it were a silly joke.

She smiled with him, shaking her head.

How she gotten on without him, she would never know.


	4. The First Tear

**Chapter Three – The First Tear:**

They had been mostly silent the rest of the ride in. He hadn't released her hand until the fissure had been closed and the TARDIS had landed in the desired location after much prompting, it seemed. Rose had no idea where or when they were but as he lowered that last lever she felt the familiar rush of going somewhere and not knowing what was outside the TARDIS door. Somewhere new. Somewhere old. It didn't matter. It was somewhere she would appreciate because of him. Even if it was somewhere they had already been before, his company made it feel like new.

He straightened from the console, his hand still clasping hers and he merely gazed at her gently. "Go on," he said quietly and he motioned to the TARDIS doors with a nod of his head, his expression soft. "Not exactly new. But I think you'll like it."

She stood, looking at him for a long moment. Then, taking a deep breath, she loosened her grip on him and he let her, his fingers slipping out of hers slowly. Even as they drifted from each other's grasp, they still dragged it out, fingers brushing almost intimately before finally parting. Giving her a small smile, he lifted both hands and shoved them back into his pockets, standing straight and waiting on her against the console.

Lifting herself on tiptoe for a small moment, shoulders hunching in against herself as she grinned widely, she spun about and raced down the ramp toward the door. She would never tire of this, running that slight distance, hearing the sharp sounds echo in the TARDIS. She would never tire of taking hold of the door and opening it to discover what waited outside.

Grasping the TARDIS door, she yanked it open and she threw herself out without a second thought.

Into the middle of a busy sidewalk. Just like that. She came to a stop and looked about, her breath catching in her throat, her lips parting.

Home. She was home. She could never mistake it for anything else. Ever. The alternate world had been so different from this. The scent of the air, the way the people of that other timeline had held themselves. The dark colors. Here, there was laughter, the scent of chips in the air and the thought made her suddenly burst out laughing. And just like that, in the middle of laughing, tears rose in her eyes and she laughed and sobbed at the same time. Just laughed loudly, her spirit flying, her entire body feeling like it could float and follow clear after. And crying, her chest ready to explode from feeling so much. Constrained, held tight and stiff.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, lifting fingers to her face and wiping at tears as they overflowed. "It's so _beautiful!"_ she shouted, throwing her head back and lifting her face to the sun that beamed down on her.

All around, people turned to look at her, several in confusion. But not one of them said anything, merely going about their business. And she didn't care. She let her hands fall numbly to her side, feeling so light. Airy. As if she could disappear with the wind.

So _alive._

The TARDIS door closed quietly behind her and she felt him as he came out behind her, smelling him on the breeze, feeling his warmth as he simply stood there. He remained wordless, merely waiting for her, allowing her to take in her old world, all of it. The first impression after so long.

"Did they see us?" she asked quietly, still looking at all the people, all the unfamiliar faces. "Did they see us come out of the TARDIS?"

He answered her quietly. "Perception filter. Just another phone box. They don't care. You're fine."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, blond hair flying with the gesture. He stood just a bit in front of the closed doors of the TARDIS, the soft breeze ruffling his hair. He looked down at her, a faint smile on his face even as he gazed at the tears on her cheeks. He lifted a hand slightly toward her but it was forgotten as she took a step and flung herself into him blindly. He fell back a bit in surprise but did not waste a moment to wrap his arms around her once more, clasping her tightly and burying his face in her shoulder.

"I should rescue you from an alternate universe more often," he murmured against her, his breath warm in her hair. "I get free hugs. And lots of them!"

She laughed, her face turned up into the air, the TARDIS standing behind their figures. "Anytime you want! You just ask me! Or just grab me! I don't care! I love this!" she cried, tilting her head into his and effectively giving him a sound knocking. "Oh, sorry!"

He merely laughed it off, hands sweeping up her back to grasp her face between his palms, his thumbs crossing along her cheeks and down to the corners of her lips as she pulled back to beam at him. He hesitated faintly as he gazed at her and her smile faltered slightly as she returned the stare, feeling the exhilaration ebb a tiny bit.

"I did miss that smile," he said to her softly, his gaze darting from one of her light brown eyes to the other. He had always had such an intense gaze, as if worlds and worlds of information were being processed in the blink of an eye. And no doubt that's exactly what was going on behind that gaze. Just that.

"I missed yours, too," she replied just as quietly, her head tilting up toward his as her smile widened, the tip of her tongue flicking out to poke at her teeth happily.

His eyes caught the gesture, eyebrows turning up solemnly for a moment and then, wordlessly, he pulled her close once more, one hand falling to her shoulder, the other clasping the back of her head and pressing it to his chest comfortingly. And she went, turning her head to rest her cheek against his collarbone. She inhaled his distinct scent deeply, that scent of Earth and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on, and stood in his warmth in the middle of the street.

Just the two of them in an embrace, a blue phone box behind them. That's all they were. And that was all she wanted to be right then and there. Maybe even forever.

* * *

The air definitely felt different, she decided. Perhaps more pollution in that other world? It was a trick of her mind, she was very well aware. But she couldn't seem to rid herself of the silly notion that the air of this world was cleaner, more pure somehow. She shook her head to herself as she thought it. Perhaps the air from that other world _was_ polluted. It was playing tricks with her mind.

And the wind was a little bit colder. Maybe it was just that time for that kind of weather. Did time travel the same in that alternate world as it did here? She had been there for quite a few months and she had been stranded during the beginning of the winter. Was it now close to spring here? She had neglected to bring a jacket, having left it in the TARDIS. Perhaps that was why she was feeling chilly.

The Doctor had given her a few hours to herself. It had been the last thing she had wanted but he had insisted. She had the rest of her life with him, he had said. Better to make peace with her world once more now that she was back. He doubted, as did she, that they would be staying here long. Only long enough to come back every so often when she had a taste for home.

And so she rediscovered her old world, the streets, the people, the cars. The scents, the sights. All of it.

Cafés. She hadn't been partial to those but she hadn't seen many of those in that alternate world. It was wonderful to walk down the street and see several open for business, outdoor seating filled almost to the brim with happy faces and laughter ringing out. Had people smiled and laughed in that other world?

Of course they had, now she was just being silly. But she couldn't blame herself. That alternate world had been gray, devoid of anything good for her except for her family, the addition of the baby that her mother had been expecting. Everything else had been bleak and miserable.

Because of him, no doubt. Wherever he went he brought color and life. Even if he had been quick to dispel those images and ideas about him, she had held onto them, steadfast in her convictions. He had been her sun and moon, her day and night. All in one tall skinny package. The thought brought a small smile to prick at the edges of her mouth as a light, lilting voice suddenly reached her ears. Cocking her head she searched the rest of the street seeking out the owner of the voice. Someone was singing, in tune with what sounded like a piano. And in French? She didn't understand a word of French but she knew enough to be able to recognize the language.

If the TARDIS had been present, she would've comprehended the language perfectly.

Hurrying a little, she made it to the end of the street and rounded it curiously.

A woman sat just inside a small open cafe not too far from the corner, slender and dark-haired. Beside her on a piano stool sat an older man, his fingers gently trailing across the black and white keys of a large ebony piano, eyes closed as she sang quietly to his beat. Almost haunting. She came closer to the edge of the outdoor seating for the cafe, aware that she was not the only one listening to the woman as several people were seated and having their refreshments. There was a small advertisement in the windows of the cafe but from where she stood she could not see the name of the act. Looking back at the woman, she moved closer to one of the outdoor seats of the cafe, unwilling to sit to order anything but wishing to listen just a bit more.

There had been nothing like this display in the alternate world. So many curfews, rules and regulations. And she'd had a hand in all of it after the alternate Torchwood had been set up with her in one of the key positions. She had decided that there was too much ground control to be done. She had decided on the curfew. She had approached the government agencies concerning the new rules for that new age in an alternate universe so far and yet so close she could almost touch it. She had been in charge of that and so much more in the small amount of time she had been there. And she knew why she had set it up that way. In that other world there had been no Time Lord to guard, to defend, Earth. There had been Torchwood and other small agencies that didn't even merit a thought. But here, now, there was someone to watch over Earth, who was so much better at the job than she could ever hope to be. And to walk through these still pure streets now as nothing more than an ordinary citizen, a part of her reveled in it as if it had become a newfound freedom.

Maybe she would have a cup of tea then. A cup, a moment of peace and a lilting French song to relax to.

Looking about for the entrance to the outdoor seating, her eyes came to rest on a gentleman she had come to stand by and she felt herself start.

"Doctor?"

If he'd heard her, he made no indication. He sat at a small round table, his hands hidden away in his pants pockets, his face mostly blank save for the weariness. The same crazy brown hair, spiky and soft at the same time. The dark eyes, hooded, staring vacantly. And the hard set to his jaw, his head bowed.

Coming closer, she bent over a little, a hand reaching out a bit. "Doctor, what are you doing here?"

Still, now seeming to blatantly ignore her, he continued to gaze at the singing woman, his brown suit jacket hanging from the back of his metal chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, brown tie loose. She stared at him, a frown crossing her face. And lifting the same hand she had been reaching with, she waved it in front of his face.

Not a thing.

Falling into a crouch beside him, she looked up at him, her eyes trailing across his face. He stared for another moment at the woman, slouched low in his chair, one leg bent and resting across the seat of another chair at his table, the other foot stretched along the ground. And the expression on his face. She felt her eyebrows draw up, waving that hand at him yet again. "Doctor, can you hear me?"

Breathing in deeply for a moment, he suddenly glanced away from her and over to his right for a quick look, surveying the rest of the people that surrounded him outside the establishment itself. Then his eyes shifted back to the woman singing, before he turned his head in her own direction, eyes trailing across the city around him.

Irritably, she moved to poke him in the shoulder. And her finger slid completely through the material of his shirt, straight into where his skin and bone should have been.

She gasped violently, dragging her hand back as if she had burned herself and snapping to her feet in one fluid movement.

The Doctor continued to sit in silence, his gaze darting around the streets, nothing holding his attention for longer than a few moments. As if she hadn't even reached out and tried to touch him.

Hesitating, glancing down at her hands and seeing them completely corporeal, Rose frowned slightly before lowering herself back down to a crouch and looking up at him. And she meant to speak his name again, attempted to make him pay her attention just to prove that he was real. That _she_ was real. But as she gazed at him she felt a pained shiver run through her at the expression on his face, the utter weariness. "Why do you look like that?" she whispered in confusion, her eyes straying from one of his moonlit dark eyes to the other, wishing she understood. Wishing she could tell what was wrong. "You look so sad...but you were so happy earlier."

Shifting a bit, the Doctor looked up at the sky, his face registering the fact that it was getting dark. Looking down at the cup of tea before him on the table, he merely stared at it for a long silent moment, inhaling deeply and then exhaling the same breath tiredly.

Still confused, she lifted her hand back up, this time to his face, inch by inch, giving him enough time to stop her hand if he decided to acknowledge her. If he _could_ acknowledge her. But then she had crossed the small distance and she felt the pricks of an unshaven jaw under her fingertips. She paused, running her fingers over the blunt hairs in confusion, taking in the circles under his eyes. And just as she frowned once more at the tiredness of his face, his eyes darted toward her, unseeing.

"Doctor?" she asked him hoarsely, her eyes widening, her hand recoiling backward at the sudden turn of his head.

He showed no sign of having heard her but his brow was turning in, a frown slowly crossing his face as well. And as she lifted her other hand and pressed it to his opposite cheek, his lips parted, his eyes becoming a bit larger in uncertainty.

"Can you hear me?" she demanded, her hands grasping him by his face firmly now. "Doctor!"

But even as she went to call to him again, as she went to rise from her crouch, her hands suddenly sank through his face. Just like that, abruptly becoming translucent, they slipped through his cheeks as he searched the area beside himself where she crouched in an expression akin to disbelief. Sitting up as she settled back on her haunches numbly, she barely registered that he had jumped to his feet, his brown pants falling loose around his legs as he took a step back.

_What is this?_

Looking down at her hands, she continued to stare at them. But they were solid. Not translucent. They were solid once more, sturdy as she lowered one to the ground to feel the rough unevenness under her fingertips. A dirty ground under her. Lifting her eyes in confusion, her heart suddenly beating triple time, she looked toward him.

And found him to be gone.

Staring in confusion, her hand held up before her, she strained to look into the cafe, searching the tables wildly. He was just gone. Brown suit jacket as well, just suddenly gone. Her lips parting, she stared blindly, confusion overwhelming her almost to the point of dizziness.

"Doctor?" she called tremulously, aware that her voice sounded faraway and frightened. Like a small child's.

A hand closed around her shoulder, startling her. She spun in her crouch and looked up at an older man bending over her, his face worried. "Are you all right there, love?" he asked her through what seemed to be a wall. His voice came muffled, like sound echoing in water, his grip on her shoulder gentle.

She blinked at him in confusion, her mouth hanging open. "W-what?"

The man looked about awkwardly before asking once more, "I said, are you all right?"

And she suddenly became aware that she was the center of attention. The French singer had stopped and was now standing beside her companion, looking curiously over at the pair of them. And the patrons surrounding her also seemed a bit worried, several murmuring quietly and pointing at her.

Rose hesitated, looking around and feeling everything to be almost surreal for a small moment. "Did you…did you see him?" she asked the older man, managing to point at the empty table she still crouched beside. "The man, there. Did you see where he went?"

The man took a second to respond, releasing her shoulder and lifting the same hand to swipe back white-blond hair uncomfortably. "There was no one there," he replied to that, shrugging halfheartedly.

She stared at him in disbelief. "Sorry?"

A woman from the table next to hers leaned over, sympathetic. "There was no one there," she answered for the man. "You just...came up, waving your hand and started calling for a doctor. Do you need one?" And she managed to look embarrassed as she asked the question, a blush rising in her cheeks. "I mean, are you feeling well?"

Staring at her before looking about at the small crowd that was gathering around her, she suddenly sprang to her feet, startling the man who had originally spoken to her. "I'm fine," she managed to make out. She looked at the empty table once more, her frown deepening before she shook her head. She hadn't imagined him. He had been there, she was certain of it. She couldn't have imagined the sorrow in those dark eyes. "I'm fine. Excuse me. I'm sorry." And brushing past the older man, she broke out of the small crowd and began to run, her head down in confusion and shame.


	5. Alone In This Bed

**Chapter Four – Alone In This Bed**

Rounding a corner blindly, she slowed and finally merely stopped, her breath leaving her in painful gasps. She felt foolish for having run. But at the same time she could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Either something was wrong with the world or something was wrong with her. She felt disoriented, lost in a place she had once been able to call home but that, for a small frightening moment, felt even more alien than all the worlds she had visited. She couldn't understand, couldn't place this strange surreal quality to the moment. Staggering a bit, she found herself slowly pitching to her left as she took a few nauseous steps and she rested her shoulder against a wall, her head falling forward as she took several shallow breaths.

Strange. The whole world felt strange.

Stopping once more, she turned and pressed her spine to the wall, letting her head fall back and heaving for a single simple breath that didn't carry an overwhelming sense of change. Of unfamiliarity. It came after several torturous seconds, her one full breath that broke through the ball in her chest. And with it came a feeling of absurdity, of feeling silly at thinking she had seen something that wasn't there. She blinked up at the coming evening, looking around to make sure she wasn't making another scene merely resting there. But she was alone in the street and the coming night was almost solemn in the streaks of purple and blue. Looking at the ribbons in the sky she suddenly realized where she was, why she had stopped here reflexively.

She was home.

Stepping away from the wall, one hand held out to it to make sure it would still be there if she felt the sudden inexplicable need to run back to it, she peered up and saw the second level overhead. The flats of the Powell Estate, all laid out, one beside the other. Such a humble upbringing for a girl who would later travel the sky and the stars. Gazing up at the floors, she focused on the window of her mother's flat and made up her mind in that small quiet second.

When she made it to her floor and approached the door of the flat, she hesitated. She didn't have a key anymore and she didn't know if someone else lived there now. It felt like such a long time since she had been home and even now, merely staring at the door and the window of the flat, she almost couldn't make herself go closer. But she wanted to know. She _needed_ to know.

Coming close to the door, wondering if she was making a huge mistake, she paused, composing herself. And then she reached out and knocked softly. Quietly. It was just about evening now. Someone should have been home. And if not then maybe the person had gone out for the night. If they had there would be no way for her to know except for the unanswered knock.

No one came to the door.

Sticking her tongue out as she rethought the decision, she ran it over her teeth and then knocked once more, louder. She heard the sound echo inside the flat. It sounded empty. Ominous. Arching a bit, she chanced a look in through the side of the curtain of the window and suddenly realized she recognized the curtain. Her mother had owned those curtains. She had grown up with those curtains. Frowning a bit, she peered into the window, barely making out the hallway inside. But sure enough, hanging along those walls, she recognized the pictures of herself with her mother, her deceased father. Mickey. Even a picture of the Doctor on a small stand deeper inside. Her mother had originally objected to the picture, such a long time ago. But Rose had been firm. She had loved the Doctor even then when he'd still been a bitter man with a dark jumper and a heavy leather coat. The Doctor had been a part of her life and in being so had become a part of her mother's life, whether she had liked it or not.

Almost like bringing home a boyfriend to meet the parents.

The thought brought a small, mischievous smile to her face before she came back to the matter at hand. And the confusion. How long had she been gone that the flat was still under her mother's name? Not so long if all her belongings were still in there. No one was going to pay the rent for her and her family. Which meant…had she been gone less than a month in this world? Was the rent late? Was everything still under Jackie's name? She pressed closer to the door, her hand circling the knob absentmindedly and it turned in her hand, the door popping open.

She pulled away as if she had been struck.

The door was open. And her belongings were still in there. Her old clothes, her old life. Old milk in the fridge, she thought to herself blankly. She pushed the door open further almost reluctantly, still waiting for someone to come running around that hallway, armed. Ready to fend off an intruder. She would have to tell him that she was not armed, nor dangerous. She was the old inhabitant of the flat. She had left her things behind. The door had been open.

_Please don't shoot._

But no such person came down that hallway. All was silent as she poked her head in cautiously. "Hello?" she called out gingerly. "Anyone home?"

No one responded.

Coming in further, slowly, she looked around the hallway, her eyes drawn to all those old pictures. Would she bother trying to hold on to this flat for her mother? For herself? She had no money, no job anymore. Her only home was the TARDIS now. Her only home was _him._ Stepping in further, she nodded to herself. She would take all her old belongings, bring them to the TARDIS. They were all hers. All from her old life. They would begin her new life with him. She had no need of this old flat anymore. Anything, _anyone_, she had ever cared for that was tied to this flat was no longer in this world.

Coming in fully, she closed the door behind herself, hearing it close but not engaging the lock. She had found it open. She would leave it open.

The flat was empty. Silent. So cold. Taking a few steps in, Rose looked about in wonder. Such old memories. Almost as if her mother lived there still, her deceased father but a recollection. If she looked closely around the flat she could clearly remember the day the Doctor had come to her home, with the plastic hand attacking him and latching onto his throat, her face. It was almost humorous now. It brought a smile to her face. He had introduced her to that strange and beautiful world.

And she had loved every moment of it.

Floating down the silent hall, stopping to look at every framed image hanging on the walls, she felt smiles cross her face, tears rising as she recalled that moment or this emotion. How she missed them all suddenly.

_Can I do this without you?_

But then she pushed the questions away. She was with the Doctor. Now, she could do anything. _Be_ anything. Anywhere. All at once. At his side. She had sacrificed her mother, her father. Her friend. All for the one man, the one alien, who could show her the world. Never stopping, forever curious. This man who would take her anywhere, give her anything.

Except the one thing she needed from him.

She ducked her head at the thought, her eyes leaving the framed pictures in the hallway as she floated along, as she passed the kitchen to peek in, refusing to look into the fridge. She would ask the Doctor, when she returned to the TARDIS, how much time has passed in this world. If she would find spoiled milk in that refrigerator. She didn't dare to look.

Sweeping along, she paused outside the door to her room and she hesitated. Would she find her room the way she had left it? That year that she had gone missing, her mother had not moved anything, had not disturbed a thing. Had anything been disturbed in the time she had been absent? She was almost afraid to look. But she had to. She had to know.

Pushing open her door she wandered into a dimly lit room. Her room had a window that faced the sunset. Now, with the sky darkening outside, she was washed in hues of grey-blue and palpable sorrow.

She paused by the door, staring at the bedroom she had slept in for so many years, and she almost didn't recognize it. All those silly little pictures she had cut out and glued into a collage. Old school friends. Mickey. Her old musician boyfriend, Jimmy Stone. When she had returned to her mother, after having been dumped by that ex-boyfriend of hers, she had despised the mere mention of his name. She had wanted nothing to do with him and had buried away all the old pictures she had owned of him, of the two of them together. But years later, she had found them once more and had cut into them, forming collages and pasting them up in her room. Staring at them now she wondered what she had ever seen in such a simple boy.

_I'm in love with an alien now. Is that really so much better?_

Coming into her room further, she reached out for her bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball on its surface and forget the last few months had happened. She wanted to wake up to her mother making tea and chatting away on the phone to one of her friends. To her alarm telling her she was about to be late to work at Henrik's. To anything except this solitude that suddenly came to weigh on her.

As she stared at her bed, she suddenly realized someone was there, appearing slowly like a ghost. She frowned a bit before closing her eyes for a long moment. Just needed to breathe for a second. Needed to focus inward. It seemed moving between alternate worlds had a bit of an effect on her. It would pass. She just needed a second.

Opening her eyes once more, she stared in confusion at the huddled form on her bed. It hadn't been there a moment before, she was almost positive. And yet, staring now, it was more real than the very flat she stood in. Real enough to touch. A tall lanky figure with wild dark hair and a pale button up shirt, sleeves rolled up.

"It's different now," he murmured. He had taken off his brown suit jacket once more, set it aside with his long coat on her chair in the corner of the room. "That sunset. It's different." He sounded tired once more, with a hint of sleeplessness, his head at the foot of her bed, his dark eyes staring out blindly. "Like it knows you're not here anymore."

With a pained expression crossing her face she knelt on her bed behind him and then merely shifted her body down to press into the soft mattress, her head facing the sun as it set outside her window. She wanted to be bathed in that warm light, wanting to fall asleep in it as if embraced by a lover. She wanted nothing more than that. "I'm here now," she said quietly with a sigh. Curling one arm against her chest and neck, she wrapped the other around his lean frame, stretching her legs out toward the head of her bed and pressing up against his back. She had done this many times before, always in thought, but never quite as intimately as now and not with him here like this. Always by herself, always needing the feel of the sun or the moon on her as she looked out and pondered other worlds, other existences. She had been so curious, even as a child. Had always wanted more, reached out for more and been determined about getting it. As if she had somehow known he was out there somewhere, known he was looking for something, for _her_, even though he himself hadn't known it at the time and she herself had never even met him.

Two people reaching out into the unknown, toward each other. And then luck connecting them in a department store.

A small smile twitched the corner of her lips as she pondered her existence, _his_ existence. The strange workings of a world that was mirrored not too far off, just a hand's reach off but an entire expanse of nothingness in between. How strange the world was. How strange _life_ was. She couldn't even begin to understand how it all worked. But it had all worked out in the end. She was here, back in her own world, back with him. And even though she knew he wouldn't, _couldn't,_ stay with her in the end, she would relish every moment she had with him until she no longer could.

_"I don't age. I regenerate. But humans decay. You wither and you __**die.**__ Imagine watching that happen to someone that you…You can spend the rest of your life with me. But I can't spend the rest of mine with you."_

Her eyes closed slowly, hearing his voice as it seemed to echo around her, wrapping around her like a warm blanket. As if he was stretched out behind her instead of in front of her, his breath playing across her cheek as he embraced her tightly. She caught his scent in the air, that earthen scent and another, a familiar scent. But as she struggled to place it she realized it was a mixture of many different scents that evoked many different memories. She didn't know how to explain it, only that it was dear to her. It sent her world spinning, made her imagine things that were not present. For a moment she thought the moonlight was sneaking into the room but no, not yet. And for that tiny eternity she imagined music suddenly playing far off, distant to her ears but so close she could almost enclose it within her heart and hold it to herself forever.

"Why are you sleeping like that?" came his soft voice faintly.

Only now it did not come from the form in her arms. As she lifted her head her arm floated down a bit, no longer embracing anything except her pillow. Like the ghost of a wind, he was no longer there. Her eyes came open slowly, widening as she found herself alone on her bed. Lips parting, she whispered against her comforter, "I-" And confusion crept into her tone as she searched her bed futilely for his frame.

There was the rustle of movement and then she felt him close to her head, his long coat brushing the edge of her bed. She tilted her head to look in that direction and she was in the dying light of the setting sun, purple and pink playing across her features in gentle shadows.

The expression on his face was soft, comforting, as he slowly lowered himself to the bed beside her head quietly. And his hand reached out, cupping her chin as he leaned over her. A bemused smile crossed her lips as she gazed up at him, upside down. He returned the smile wordlessly, his fingers brushing across the underside of her chin, his thumb curling along the corner of her mouth.

"You were gone for a bit. I was worried," he confided to her in the darkness of the setting sun.

She made a small face, examining him. Same long coat, blue suit underneath. His moonlight in the dark. "Weren't you just here? A second ago?" she asked him quietly, soft confusion furrowing her brow.

A corner of his mouth quirked a bit at her question, his fingers making lazy circles along her jaw. "Nope," he replied, popping the p. "I just got here. Parked the TARDIS, decided to take a walk around. I figured you would come here in the end. Home."

She stared at him, wordless for a long moment. This wasn't home anymore, not by itself. And after everything maybe she just needed sleep. Sleep and a cup of tea in the morning. "Well," she replied finally, "You don't have to worry about me, Doctor."

_Except that I think I'm going mad._

"I'll always find my way back to you." And she allowed the sentence to hang, the implication to settle between them both as she gazed at him tenderly.

_Would_ she always find her way back to him? She had thought, back when they had tried to seal away the Daleks in that Void, that nothing would ever separate them. And then the alternate world had come in the way. He had found the way back to _her_. As of yet there was only one kind of separation that would permanently part them. What about the next time? Next time they were separated for any reason, would they be able to find their way back to each other?

"I know you will," he said finally, his head tilted toward her, gazing at her blindly as his fingers teased her jaw, almost tickling her. And he settled into another long wordless spell, seeming content to merely stare at her in silence.

She allowed him, turning onto her back slowly to return the gaze, a small smile curling the edges of her lips.

They held there for what felt like a long moment. Eternity even. The sun had disappeared, the room a dark blue until it turned bright once more with moonlight. And still he simply sat with her in silence, his fingers gentle. She felt her eyes close not long after to the trailing of his fingers, to the soft sound of his breathing.

It was only when she woke from a small nightmare that she felt him stretched out beside her, one arm wrapped around her waist, fingers curled in toward her ribs. She turned her face slowly, barely wishing to move, and he was next to her, his chin beside her temple, his breath floating around her. He slept also, never needing more than a few hours because of his alien biology and he was once more clad only in his button shirt, his coat and suit jacket set aside in the background. Settling again, she gazed at him from mere inches, her eyes trailing across his weary features. Not as tired anymore as when she had first seen him again on the beach. Several lines had somehow disappeared and she envied that about him, a tender smile crossing her lips. With a soft breath she lifted a hand and clasped him gently by the wrist, feeling his skin to be cold. It was normally cold to the touch. But he was present still.

And that was all she wanted at the moment.


	6. The First Visit

**Chapter Five – The First Visit:**

The sound echoed down the long alleyway. Unmistakable. The gentle thrum as it came into being and then once the phone box had materialized, the flashing lights lit the alleyway brightly. It was morning still. Early morning. Time in the TARDIS flowed differently. One didn't know what time it was, what day it was, until he checked the console and had the answer. And it was never something simple. Like the twelfth of June. It was always something extraordinary.

_"Welcome to the year five billion! Try not to wander too far without me. It's been awhile since I've been here."_

Today was different. She'd had a long and confusing argument with him. He knew things that she didn't and he was being just about impossible with all his secret information.

_"No, I can't tell you anything. Just find this girl. This one here."_ He'd shown her a picture. A real picture. Not a file on the TARDIS' computer. A real photograph of a cheerful blond girl, hair tied into low braids, her head tilted, smiling at something out of frame. _"According to the calculations she is here. Now. Only for a little while. And I need you to find her, you won't have much time. Find her and tell her-"_

His face had turned firm as he had explained, as he'd told her what he needed her to tell the blond girl. And he'd held the picture as he'd explained, his fingers tight across the image of the girl, the dark circles under his eyes pronounced.

_"It's Rose, isn't it?"_ She'd asked him, motioning to and then yanking the picture clear out of his grip. _"That's Rose you want me to talk to."_ He had told her once, in the quiet of the TARDIS after one particularly harrowing journey, that she'd had light brown eyes, hazel eyes, green flecks in the brown. Golden flecks when she'd stood in the sun. Summer in her gaze.

His face had darkened even more at the mere mention of her name. _"Just find her and tell her."_

And then he had unceremoniously kicked her out of the TARDIS. Just like that. He had opened the door for her, snatching the picture out of her hand as she had floated past him. And with one last piece of advice, motioning down the alleyway and then around the corner, he had just about slammed the door in her face.

"Lucky I have a bloody key," she murmured, fingering said key as it hung around her neck. She lifted it into her grasp and then tucked it underneath her red leather jacket, zipping it up so as to hide its existence. "Perception filter up and ready to go. Ok. I'll just…go off for a gander then…" She looked around for a long moment, completely lost. "Now then. Where to find you, Rose Tyler?"

And she floated down the alleyway, heading in the direction the Doctor had pointed.

* * *

"Rose!"

He was calling again. She lifted her head to see her unkempt reflection in her bathroom mirror, toothbrush poking out of her mouth and grasped tightly in her grip. "What?" she called through her closed bathroom door around a mouthful of toothpaste. She leaned over to spit, rinsing out her mouth as she waited for him to respond.

The knock came from outside of the bathroom, hard on the door. "Are you going to be much longer?" And he sounded impatient. Like a typical human man.

She found herself rolling her eyes as she set her toothbrush under the stream coming from the faucet. "Yes. I'm going to be a while still! I have to shower and then I have to get something to eat, I'm _starving!"_ she replied, rinsing out the bristles.

"Chips?" The door opened and he peeked in curiously, eyes gleaming at the mere mention of food.

_"Get out!"_

The door shut instantly as she lobbed a hairbrush at it, flinging blond hair out of her face with the gesture. And from the other side she heard him quite well as he murmured, "I crossed the void, knocked my way into an alternate reality and _she's being difficult over chips_?"

"I heard that." But the smile played across her face as she set aside her toothbrush then went to the door and turned the lock on it.

One shower. It was all she wanted at the moment. A shower in her old flat to remind her that she was still the same person she had once been. Even if it wasn't true anymore.

"Ooh, Life on Mars!" came the Doctor's voice from the living room, sounding muffled as the television went on in the background. "I don't get this channel on the TARDIS. Shame."

Starting up her shower, she allowed herself to take a deep breath, merely standing in her bathroom and feeling like the same old person in the same old place. Nothing like being home.

* * *

"Just tell me when you're done then." Now he was definitely impatient.

And the sound of his exasperated tone only made her all the more gleeful as she paused by the living room to look at him. "Yes, Doctor," she said magnanimously. And she bit down on her smile, clothed in only a towel and holding her discarded clothes to her chest as he jumped to his feet and turned off the television. "Anything on the telly, by the way?"

He opened his mouth, excitement crossing his face, no doubt ready to tell her all about the drama that had transpired on the show. "That Sam Tyler is utterly familiar to me. I could swear I've seen him somewhere. Escapes me, though." And then he visibly backpedaled. "Nothing at all. Go on and get dressed. You've taken long enough showering." He tossed aside the remote control on the couch. A moment later, thinking better as he sent her another suspicious glance, he instead tucked the remote into the couch cushions before standing straight once more. "Go on."

Tossing him an equally scathing look, she turned and hopped off to her room to change.

"I'll be in the TARDIS," he called to her from the living room and she heard as he crossed to the hallway and made his way to the front door. "And please, _please, _don't take forever. I may not age the same as you but regeneration by tedium is not on my list of scheduled tasks either." And with that last snippy remark he was out the door, the sounds of his exit echoing behind him as he left.

He was much more impatient than he had been before they had separated. Perhaps even cheekier. She couldn't even begin to fathom a guess. Digging through her drawers, she pulled out several articles of clothing she had missed even before leaving with the Doctor. She had never taken her entire wardrobe with her. And now that she was back here she would just pack up the rest of it. Coming back into this world, she had even been reunited with the clothes she had taken aboard the TARDIS. And she would not for a moment miss the clothes she had been forced to get in that other world. _This_ was her life. Not that shadow of a life she'd had for those few months.

Dressing herself and packing everything up into a laundry bag, she looked about the room. Pictures. She needed them all. And she began to take them down, one by one. Taking them out of frames and stacking them together, any which way. Stuffing them into her bag as well after spending a good few minutes gazing at each.

And it hit her once more that this was the last she had of her mother. Now stranded in that other world, her mother would never again step foot in this one. She would never see her again, nor the child she was carrying. And the thought made her slump against the wall limply, a picture clutched in her hand. She would never hear her mother's voice again unless she asked the Doctor to take her back to a time when she had still lived in this world. Before the events of the Cybermen and the Daleks. Before all of it.

Pushing the thoughts aside for another day she shoved the picture into her bag and reached for more. Small little knick-knacks her mother had owned. Tiny things. Nothing bulky. As much space as there was in the TARDIS she was in no mood to make several trips just to lug them over.

Besides, she could always come back for anything else she wanted to take. She would have to remind herself to ask the Doctor how much time had passed in this world that the flat was still filled with her own things.

Lugging the laundry bag after her she strode down the hallway, casting last glances left and right. Some pictures there too that she wanted to take with her. Pictures of her mom and Mickey. Her friends. Her mother's friends as well, why not. Leaving behind empty picture frames as she went. Nothing more. This was no longer her life. Reaching the end of the hallway, she yanked open the door and pushed her bag out, stepping with it and then pulling the door closed behind her. There was no key on her with which to lock it. She would have to leave it as she had found it. But everything of any significant value was already on her. There was nothing left.

With a groan, Rose hefted the bag over her shoulder and began to walk down the corridor lining the flats, looking for the staircase to lead her down. And as she rounded the corner, peering over the side below in search of the TARDIS, she rammed into a hard slender whirlwind that had been racing in her direction.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she gasped, balance thrown between the force of the person in front of her combined with the weight of her bag. She staggered back and then up against the railing, her bag acting as a cushion before she let it merely slip to the floor.

The person was silent as she hesitated a moment, taking a breath. She lifted her head to the individual, meeting dark eyes in apology.

"Rose Tyler…" the person, a lovely young woman with a dark complexion, whispered in a tone close to disbelief.

She stared at her for a moment, startled into brief silence. She seemed about the same height but not as fair in skin tone. Dressed in jeans and a red leather jacket, the girl stood stiff, her hair piled on top of her head, dark as well. "That's me, yep," Rose replied after a second. "Been a while, I'm sure. I know you?" she inquired.

The girl continued to stare at her for a moment longer, seeming to be stunned speechless. "Yes. I mean, no! No, you don't. No. But I know…so much about you. Was envious of you, in fact. For so long. Wow. This is…" And she sighed, her shoulders slumping, her eyes falling mournfully, "sudden."

Rose gave her a small sympathetic smile, lips tightening into a firm line, head nodding. "Right. Sudden. Sorry. Who are you again?"

The girl straightened then, her face becoming purposeful, head held high. "Martha. Martha Jones. And I have a message for you."

Rose recoiled slightly at that. "For me?"

The girl, Martha, leaned forward suddenly, taking hold of her hand and Rose let her, staring at her with wide eyes as she did so. "I know you think that…that this is some sort of a miracle. That you're here again. But he told me to tell you, it isn't. It isn't a miracle."

Rose frowned at her, her hand limp in the girl's. "Who is he?"

Martha grimaced, her face saddening. "The Doctor. _My_ Doctor."

Rose hesitated a moment before yanking her hand out of the girl's grip. "_Your_ Doctor?" she asked her in a bit of a raised tone.

"It isn't a miracle," Martha continued, her dark eyes sorrowful, her face smooth and beautiful in her pain. "It's a disaster. One large disaster that he is trying to fix. And you can't tell him! You can't tell him I'm here, your Doctor. That I'm telling you this. He'll only try to find a way-" Her expression turned into a wince. "He'll only make more of a mess of it. You can't tell him!"

Rose blinked, uncertain. Almost unwilling to understand. "What is a disaster?" As the dark-skinned girl looked around quickly she asked again, "I'm talking to you! What's a disaster? Tell me what you mean!"

"Rose!"

And as the familiar masculine voice of the Doctor trailed up from the ground floor below, the girl looked over the railing instantly. Seeing something that startled her she whispered, "Oh, God." And without another word she turned and ran, back down the corridor she'd come from. Looking after her for a dumb moment Rose took off a second later, her trainers slapping across concrete, the sound reverberating in the stillness.

"Wait!"

Even as she raced to catch up she knew the moment she had taken to begin the chase had cost her. The girl was just about out of sight as she raced down the stairs ahead and then vanished around the corner. Running down the staircase and winding about, she came to a stop as she scanned the empty street, looking both ways and then looking again, as if she would magically reappear.

And on the breeze she heard the sound of the TARDIS.

With widening eyes she took off once more, heading in the direction it seemed to come from. So close, that familiar sound. Her trainers smacking across the cement, she tried to catch up, to keep up to the sound as it grew stronger. But then, as she seemed to get closer, as she came upon a turn in the street, she realized that the sound of the TARDIS was growing faint. Skidding to a halt, she reached the turn and spun to look, her chest heaving.

Sure enough, at the edge of the alleyway, the TARDIS door had just slammed shut and it began to dim. Eyes widening, she took off once more, her mouth opening as she shouted, "Wait! _Wait!"_

But as she reached the pulsating police box it melted away into nothingness, leaving her panting in its absence.

* * *

His jaw was stiff. She recognized the look. And the circles under his eyes deepened as he watched the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

"I told her," Martha said to him quietly.

He didn't respond to that, face dark as he stared at the very familiar, _achingly_ familiar, blond girl that stood in the middle of the empty alleyway.

"I don't think I made myself clear though," she continued softly, tilting her head as she studied him, his silent posture. "I don't think she understood. I had to cut it short. You showed up. Not _you_, you. But…you."

Inhaling deeply for a long moment his hand snaked out and shut off the monitor wordlessly. And saying nothing to her, he turned and stalked off toward the back rooms of the TARDIS.

And she was left looking after him in silence, lips parted.

* * *

"What happened?"

The voice came from beside her and she had been caught unaware at that. Turning to look over her shoulder she watched as the Doctor came up behind her and looked down at her, his face hard. "What?"

"What happened?" he demanded, taking hold of her by her shoulders. "Why did you take off like that?"

"Ow!" she shouted at him and her tone froze him, forcing him to weaken his grip a bit. "Worry much?" And she shook her head at him, looking aside for a long moment, her heart racing. "I thought…I thought I saw someone I knew. But I didn't. She just…" Even to her own ears she sounded unconvincing. And she grimaced inwardly.

_"And you can't tell him! You can't tell him I'm here, your Doctor. That I'm telling you this."_

She hadn't been given enough time to think something up. He had surprised her in catching up to her, hadn't given her a chance. And now she was spluttering as she tried to think up a way to explain a certain Martha Jones. "I think I scared her, that girl. I ran into her in the hallway and I thought I recognized her so I chatted her up but I didn't know her. I knew her, I mean, in…in that other place." And she forced a far away look to her expression, lifting her hand to her head absentmindedly as she raised her eyes to him once more. "I scared her, I really did. Was gobsmacked myself. Started talking to her like I knew her, because I did. But not here. In the other world. And I scared her."

He was watching her intently, his eyes darting from one of her eyes to the other in narrowed concentration, expression tight.

She hesitated, gazing at him.

"You're lying to me," he said to her quietly. And his eyes suddenly widened, his face registering shock. "And wow, what a story!"

She stared at him, struck dumb. "What?"

"Lying," he repeated to her knowingly. "I can see it. Pupil dilation. Off colour. Your pulse just shot through the roof. It's obvious." He suddenly pointed at her, a long slender index finger in her face. "Even looking to the left! Oh, that's textbook right there." And he straightened, serious business once more. "Now, the truth, Rose."

She gazed at him for another long moment but could tell that he was not about to budge as he released her and crossed his arms over his chest. Hesitating still, teetering on weakening knees, she finally exhaled, looking away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked her in disbelief.

"I don't want to talk about it," she repeated. And she looked back at him. "I just don't, Doctor. Please? Can we just…can we just skip over this and act like it didn't happen?"

He stared at her. "Not a chance!"

She stared at him for another long moment before dropping her eyes, her frame stiffening. "Well, I'm not talking about it. And you can read me all you want, I'm not about to talk. I don't want to have a row with you and I just want to go to the TARDIS, drop off my clothes and-" Her eyes widened. "My clothes! The pictures!" And without another word she spun about and raced off down the alleyway, heading back toward the Powell Estates.

"Rose!" he yelled after her. "We're not done with this conversation!"

"Yes, we are!" she shouted back as she turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

With an inward growl the Doctor followed after her.


	7. The Second Tear

**Chapter Six – The Second Tear:**

They hadn't talked about the incident. At all. As much as he had wanted to, she had managed to shut him down any which way he had tried to approach it. And he had understood from the beginning how ridiculously stubborn apes could be but really now. Something had not been right at all about the entire thing and here she was knowingly avoiding it.

Even a cup of tea hadn't been able to soothe him.

And so when the TARDIS had sluggishly alerted him to an incident at a nearby hospital not too long after they had hopped out of the current year, he had rigidly set coordinates right back, this time skipping ahead by a few months, his jaw tight. She had stood beside him as he'd done so, uncharacteristically quiet, her entire person withdrawn.

"Right then," he began, setting the TARDIS down roughly and then leaning on the console to send her an aloof glance. "Hospital. Strange. That's all I know. Shall we?"

She spared him a confused look. "Hospital and strange? That's all you got?"

He didn't reply to that, an eyebrow arching tiredly.

She hated when he became like this. Quiet, a bit sullen. Not as much as his former incarnation but enough for her to be uncomfortable around him. She should have told him about the entire incident with Martha Jones but she couldn't chance it at the same time. If he was sending people back to them, or even across to them from an alternate world, he must have had a good reason for it. And the girl, Martha, she had told her that she couldn't chance telling him anything.

No. Not an alternate world. Not unless he had found a safe way to do it. In coming back for her he had needed her…her particles. Those golden particles she'd had within her, leftover from the heart of the TARDIS. And it had been an effort for the TARDIS to cross the worlds. Martha's TARDIS had dematerialized as easily as their own would when traveling within the constraints of their own universe. Which meant unless they were so far from the future that they had perfected travel between universes, and even that was silly if she thought about it seeing as how they had their own time machine, Martha Jones was from her own personal future. But her Doctor would not interfere with past timelines. It was much too dangerous.

He was still waiting for her, his dark eyes studying her intently and she felt that same edge of ice from him. But then, even his past self had been cold under the goofy grins and the big ears. And this one was dark under the wide smiles and attractive features. Like a dark night. A dark moonlit night surrounding a pond frozen over. Peaceful, silent but still unbearably cold.

She pursed her lips for a long moment at his silence, leaning her frame on one hand as she rested it on the console beside him. "Ok then. Hospital. Are we just going to take a look around?" she asked awkwardly.

With a thoughtful pause the Doctor straightened, hands slipping into the pockets of his blue suit. "Actually I was thinking I would check myself in. You'd best stay outside." And he smiled brilliantly at her suddenly, cocking his head. "You can come visit me!"

She stared at him. Cold to hot. Simple as that. Was she just as easily forgiven? "You're going to check yourself into a hospital and then you want me to visit you?" she echoed him in bemusement. "Gone mad, have you?"

He frowned as if she had insulted him. "Mad how? I just assumed I would put myself smack dab in the middle of it all and keep you out of it. After all, if you play visitor there's every chance for you to leave the hospital should something happen. Check yourself in with me and we'll both be had." And he glanced at the console once more with a small shrug, a hand leaving his pocket to reach for the controls.

They both paused in silent thought, Rose running her tongue over her teeth as he fiddled with a lever on the console.

"Ok," she agreed after another moment with a firm nod. And then she lifted a finger and waved it at him. "But I'm not keen on the idea of coming to visit you. That means I have to follow visitor's hours and all that. Which means if something happens during the night I won't be there for you. I'm not sure about that part, exactly."

"Oh," he waved her off with a small dismissive frown. "What can possibly happen in a hospital in the middle of the night? Really now. The most that will happen is some wayward nurse will try to drug me and do away with me. And quite honestly, my body is perfectly capable of dealing with any kind of drugs or toxins."

She was staring at him as he broke off, an eyebrow arched almost into her hairline. "Is that something you're counting on? Something you seriously think is going to happen to you?"

He lifted one of his own eyebrows knowingly, casting her a sideways glance. "We've dealt with far worse."

She stared at him for a moment longer before her dark eyes darted away thoughtfully. "I suppose." And then she shook it all off, grimacing. "Ok, you go, check yourself in. I'll come visit you tomorrow? Would tomorrow be good for you?" And she smiled mischievously. "I'll tell them I'm there to visit my father."

His look of complete disbelief was comical. "Your _father?"_ he demanded. "I am, in no way, even close in age to Pete Tyler!'

She controlled her smirk. "You're right. You're only about nine hundred years older. But they don't have to know." And she waved her hand, dismissing the small unnecessary fact with a wrinkle to her nose.

He opened his mouth to retort to that. But then a moment later he snapped his jaw shut, pausing thoughtfully for a second then propping his hand on his hip. "But I do look rather fit for my age, eh?"

She let the smile come through. "Absolutely, dad."

She'd been left patrolling. That's what it was in the end. Checking himself in meant he could take a look inside the hospital but that meant she would have to stay outside and keep a look out for anything suspicious. "But what can happen outside of a hospital?" she argued with herself quietly, aware that she had spoken aloud and had spooked at least one person passing by her in the street. She managed to send an uneasy smile after the person who merely gave her a strange look before continuing on the way. Leaning awkwardly, hands shoved into her back pockets, she looked about. It was now the day after they had made their plans and today was visiting day. They'd had no contact since they'd last spoken in the TARDIS and she had found herself to be worried for him as she had slept the night in silence. But she couldn't really complain about that. She had been surrounded by the quiet hum of the TARDIS, had slept in her own bed onboard. There was nothing better than that. Except perhaps the easy chatter of a certain Time Lord. She had just lifted a hand to brush back an errant lock of blond hair when she saw her, her entire body stiffening rigidly.

Heading straight for the hospital was one Martha Jones. Rose stared after her with widening eyes, her finger caught at the corner of her lips where the blond wisp of hair continued its attempt into her mouth. Straining to see after her as the dark-skinned girl hurried along she found herself straight out shadowing her, drawing closer but remaining back a bit so as to avoid being seen.

She was lovely, she had to admit. Slender with smooth and flawless skin and clothed in a long jean jacket, Martha Jones seemed almost oblivious to the world around her as she moved quickly, cell phone in hand and speaking rapidly. Coming a bit closer she caught what seemed to be the last snippet of her conversation as they both turned a corner, first Martha then Rose not too far behind.

"Hi, Annalise!"

And after what could only have been an awkward laugh, the girl hung up her phone with a smile. Rose quickened her pace a bit, almost running now.

A moment later she snapped into place in a complete and disbelieving stop.

From the side, as if ambushing her, the Doctor appeared and stepped into Martha's path, looking down at her with a very familiar expression on his face. Rose stilled, her heart dropping out from under her and a second later she darted sideways to hide back behind the corner they had both turned. He was supposed to be checked into a hospital. Wasn't he? Who was this then? The Doctor? _Her_ Doctor? _Martha's_ Doctor? Someone from the past? The future? He wouldn't dare cross his own timeline though, it was foolish of him.

_"The Doctor. __**My**__ Doctor."_

"Like so," the Doctor announced loudly, just enough for her to overhear as she peeked around the corner. "See?" And Rose stared in complete confusion as he undid his tie and pulled it off completely. Waving it in Martha's face for another moment he then sauntered off in the direction he had come, tie shoved into his coat pocket.

The same expression now blossoming on Rose's own face, Martha looked around with a bemused smile, looking as if she had been caught in someone's prank. No one stepped forward to claim the honor however and the girl was left to hesitate thoughtfully for a tiny instant before continuing on her way.

Coming up to stand exactly where the confrontation had taken place as Martha left it, Rose looked off after the Doctor who was disappearing into the crowd and then Martha Jones who was headed still in the direction of the hospital.

_"You can't tell him I'm here, your Doctor. That I'm telling you this."_

Had that been her Doctor? What color suit had he been wearing when he had left the day before? If it was her Doctor she would question him later as to his whereabouts and whether he knew the true definition of teamwork. But by the look on Martha's face after he had left her standing in the middle of the street, he had been just as strange to her as he'd been to Rose upon first meeting. Which meant he had probably been her own Doctor. Which also meant that at the moment she needed answers from Martha Jones then. She didn't know when she would find her again. The fact that she had stumbled upon her even today was a stroke of pure luck. Staring off after the Doctor still as he rounded a corner, she started off once more on Martha's tail, keeping back but staying close.

She was going to have to have a word with her Doctor later.

Waiting a second as Martha rounded a corner up ahead, she slowed, coming up to the corner and then quickly peering around the wall.

And just like that Martha Jones was gone.

Frowning, Rose cocked her head from the wall, looking around quickly. She studied the figures as they crowded the streets, laughter sounding not too far off. But nowhere did she see the long jean jacket or Martha's dark hair. Stepping away from the wall, spinning about in search, she stared at every single person around her, casting a quick glance before moving on to the next person once they proved themselves to be someone other than Martha. Hurrying now, no longer caring whether she was discovered, Rose raced down the street, looking around frantically. It wasn't possible to lose someone like this. There was no way. Coming to a stop at the beginning of a parking lot she found herself to be before the entrance to the hospital. And Martha was nowhere in sight.

"How…" she whispered, utterly confused. "What the hell?"

Could she have gone in without being seen? Rose turned in a full circle, uncertain whether she wanted to follow. It was obvious the Doctor was not inside seeing as how he had spoken with Martha only a few blocks away and had then headed in the complete opposite direction, the idiot. She hesitated, looking around indecisively.

_Ah, screw it._

Dropping her hands back to her sides she composed herself and marched straight to the front doors of the hospital. She was Rose Tyler. She had been heading up Torchwood in her alternate timeline. She had seen things with the Doctor and then on her own that no one else had ever even dreamed of. What was there to fear from a hospital? If he was unwilling to figure out what was up with the hospital then she would get to it herself. If there was something the alternate world had taught her, it was that the wonders of the universe did not cease just because she had come back home.

Squaring her shoulders, she ducked into the hospital, without the doubt that the Doctor would probably get irritated with her for going on without him. She shrugged mentally. She could live with it.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Chapter Seven - The Rain:**

Raising his eyes to her, he merely gazed at her for a long quiet moment. And she knew what the look said. He knew there was something going on with her, something she refused to share with him, something that was happening right under him that he couldn't get out of her. There was something almost cold in the eyes of a Time Lord, of this she had realized early on. His ninth incarnation had once housed that same winter coolness in his stare and this one, while not allowing it to shine as strongly, still had not given up entirely on sorrow and pain. Not when the proof was there in those winter moonlit eyes.


	8. The Rain

**Chapter Seven – The Rain:**

She had only really been looking about for several minutes, lost on a floor she couldn't be bothered to remember but was almost certain was the fourth floor, when she saw him. She allowed herself a complete stunned instant, standing stock still in a cold white hallway before clenching her hands into fists at her side and stomping over to the door looking into one of the rooms.

_"I can't believe you!"_ she hollered at him from the doorway.

In the room and tucked away in a bed not too far from the door, clothed in jim-jams and studying a small container in his hand, his head snapped up to look toward her. "Rose!" he exclaimed with a wide smile, wild hair tousled, face brightening with an adorable grin.

"Don't you even!" she growled at him and she entered the tiny corridor leading into the open room, storming her way in and pausing at his bedside, her cheeks flaming. "What are you playing at?"

He looked at her, wide-eyed and sporting the expression of a lost child. "Beg your pardon?"

She gestured, utterly infuriated with him. "First I see you out in the street, taking off your tie and walking off! Did you even check yourself in? What did you do, sneak out?" And she lowered her voice into a hiss. "You were supposed to be staking this place out! What the hell did you think you were doing walking around outside?"

His lips parted but nothing came out and for the life of her the look of confusion on his face was much too genuine.

"And now here you are!" she exclaimed, and she motioned to the container. "Eating…eating…what the hell is that?"

His lips moved numbly, his face struck dumb. "Banana pudding…" he murmured.

_"And here you are eating banana pudding!"_ she cried, motioning as if it were the single most absurd thing he had ever done. As she did so he looked down at the pudding blankly, a slight frown crossing his face as if the pudding had somehow insulted him. "What were you doing outside talking to-" She suddenly clamped down on her next words, on the name that had come to her lips.

He looked at her once more, an eyebrow arching questioningly.

Tightening her jaw, her eyes darting from his to the container of banana pudding, she felt herself tap her foot almost impatiently for a moment. And then, shaking her head she instead lowered her voice, reaching behind herself and pulling closed the curtain surrounding the bed to give them privacy. "Did you find out anything?"

He opened his mouth to speak, the container forgotten in his hand. "I…wasn't outside today. I didn't speak to anyone outside today." And the tone of his voice was thoughtful, his eyes shifting sideways slightly.

With an inward sigh and confusion now settling inside her, Rose reached out for the banana pudding container, yanking it straight out of his grasp and he allowed her, his dark eyes lifting to hers solemnly. And there was something there in their depths, an unspoken question. But then she was tearing the foil off the container and handing it back to him and his wide smile spread across his face immediately, adorable once more. She tilted her head as he took it from her, his eyes shifting down to the container and a finger digging out a large scoop straight away.

"Not even a spoon then, eh?" she quipped quietly and she smiled gently as he stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked the pudding clear off in child-like glee.

"Ruins the fun," he replied as he pulled his finger out of his mouth and looked down at the container once more. "More enjoyable this way."

"Right," she sighed. And wearily she turned and slumped down beside him, legs hanging off the side of the bed, her shoulders settling tiredly. "Ok then, Houdini," she said to him, looking from the banana pudding to his face as he sucked on his finger once more. "What did you find out?"

He dropped his eyes to the container once more, hesitating barely a moment before allowing his finger to take the plunge yet again. "Houdini?" he echoed quizzically, eyes obviously caught on what seemed to be more important issues to him.

She threw him a jaded look. "What did you find out?" she asked once more.

Raising his eyes to her, he merely gazed at her for a long quiet moment. And she knew what the look said. He knew there was something going on with her, something she refused to share with him, something that was happening right under him that he couldn't get out of her. There was something almost cold in the eyes of a Time Lord, of this she had realized early on. His ninth incarnation had once housed that same winter coolness in his stare and this one, while not allowing it to shine as strongly, still had not given up entirely on sorrow and pain. Not when the proof was there in those winter moonlit eyes.

But she returned the same blank look to him. And he took it, albeit with resignation.

"Nothing yet," he replied finally, his finger lifting once more, pudding dripping heavily from it. She reached out as it began to make its way toward his mouth, settling it for a moment and meeting his eyes still.

"Go on," she prodded. "You're not fooling me with that, _'Nothing yet.'_ But you've noticed something, yeah?"

His eyes darkened the slightest bit, sending a shiver down her spine. And she was forced to remember right then and there. He was her Doctor. He was her friend. But he was more than just cleverness in a pretty package. He was centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Of heartache and grief. Comprehension of more than she could ever understand. She was in the presence of a being older than she could even fathom and that being was gazing at her intently, studying her and almost evaluating her.

She bowed her head and held his stare.

Lifting his own head at her unspoken challenge to read her, he merely said, "Noticed, yes. There's an undercurrent of something here. A current of…something. I can't explain it." And then he looked pointedly down at her fingers still staying his hand.

"Right. Sorry," she mumbled, letting her hand drop away.

With a small smile gracing his face once more, allowing the tension to melt away with the gesture, he stuck his finger right back into his mouth, cheeks indenting as he sucked it clean of pudding.

Mirroring him with a smile of her own, she leaned forward, lifting a finger and peering at his pudding. "Sharing is caring, mate-" And just as she almost got a fingertip into the pudding the curtain was pulled open abruptly and they were left facing a small cluster of medical students, all crowding close.

"Good morning, Mr. Smith," one of the doctors, a stern looking older man said to him. "And how are you feeling today?"

Rose settled back a bit on the bed as he responded. "Oh, not so bad. Still a bit…bleh," he replied with a cock of his head.

"John Smith," the older doctor said to the medical students crowded around him. "Admitted yesterday with severe abdominal pain."

Rose threw him a look as if to say, _'Abdominal pain? That's the best you could come up with?'_

He responded silently with a faint mischievous smile in her direction.

And then the older man looked to his side as one of his group peeked closer and Rose stiffened, surprised. Feeling the bed shift under her with the gesture the Doctor looked toward her and stared, a frown gently crossing his face. And then his gaze shifted to where Rose's attention was held and he again stared as Martha Jones raised her head to something the older gentleman said.

"Jones, why don't you see what you can find. Amaze me."

With a small smile, Martha came round the bed, stethoscope in hand. "That wasn't very clever running around outside, was it?" she asked the Doctor as she circled around Rose, causing her to stiffen away from the medical student even more.

"Sorry?" the Doctor asked Martha and he glanced at Rose as she looked at him with the expression of someone who had just been proven right and wasn't the least bit happy about it.

"On Chancery street, this morning?" Martha reiterated, leaning over him and pressing the cold disk of the stethoscope down to his chest. "Came up to me and took your tie off."

With a dark glare as he looked toward her once more, Rose crossed her arms over her chest, arching a brow. "Really?" he breathed, seeming struck dumb at the revelation. "What'd I do that for?"

"I don't know. You just did," Martha stressed with a slight shrug.

"Not me," he said with a shake to his head. "I was here in bed. Ask the nurses." And that last bit was also directed at Rose who frowned slightly, her eyes darting from him to Martha.

"That's weird. Do you have a brother?" Martha asked him in confusion.

He shook his head. "No. Not anymore," he replied.

"Not anymore?" Rose demanded, ignoring the telling look he sent her. Whipping about to face Martha, she suddenly stuck her hand out. "I'm Rose, by the way. Martha, isn't it?"

Both the Doctor and Martha hesitated, Martha looking decidedly more awkward. "Well, yeah actually. How did you know?" And she almost managed to shake her hand.

Without a pause, Rose motioned over her shoulder at the older man, dropping the handshake before it had even been initiated and literally leaving Martha hanging. "He told me. Have we met before? Maybe outside my old flat?" She asked feigning familiarity and pointing at her thoughtfully.

Martha stared at her. "Not…that I recall," she replied, slowly drawing back her hand.

"Have you met _him_ before?" Rose continued on, motioning this time to the Doctor who was now looking at her as if she had grown another eye smack dab in the middle of her forehead. "Maybe…_outside my old flat?"_

Martha glanced toward him quickly. "I…thought I saw him outside today. But I guess I could be wrong-"

"Hear that?" Rose said to the Doctor loudly, turning her attention to him and she reached over to pat his hip cheerfully. "Outside today! Could be wrong though. Something you're not telling me?"

The Doctor looked from her to Martha and then back again. "N…no…"

Rose glared at him. "Right."

"Well!" the older man cut in as Rose sent the Doctor another scathing look. "Let's just have a look here at the chart and see what it-" And as soon as he lifted it into his hands and touched the metal of the clipboard a current shot through him, visible even to the crowd surrounding him.

"That happened to me this morning," Martha piped up, motioning and nodding as someone else chimed in, in agreement.

"That's to be expected," the older gentleman said dismissively. "There's a thunderstorm moving in and lightning is a form of static electricity as was first proven by…anyone?" And he looked about at his crowd, prodding expectantly.

"Benjamin Franklin," the Doctor replied, Rose immediately giving him the, '_Don't start,'_ look.

"Correct." The older man seemed surprised.

The Doctor inhaled thoughtfully. "My mate Ben. That was a day and a half. I got rope burns off that kite." He nodded, remembering it almost vividly. "And then I got soaked-"

"Quite," the man cut him off, Rose dropping her head into her hand wordlessly.

"And _then_ I got electrocuted," he topped off with a cheeky smile.

"Moving on," the older man said then and there. And as he ushered his group away he leaned into one of the students. "I think perhaps a visit from Psychiatric."

The Doctor watched them go, smile widening. As they left Martha looked over her shoulder with a smile of her own at him, one Rose caught as she lifted her head once more in embarrassment. "What was that then?" she demanded of him, watching Martha as she turned away. "And do you always have to do that?"

"What?" he asked her quizzically. And he held out his container. "Banana pudding?"

"No, I don't want banana pudding!" she rapped out at him.

"You did a second ago," he said to her with a small frown. "Almost bit off my hand-"

"I did not!" she cried in mock outrage. And she broke off, her shoulders falling heavily. Everything was so strange. And the look Martha had given him on the way out did nothing to cheer her up. Humans always fell for the Doctor, it was a fact. If one could get past the attractive exterior there was the reality that he was intriguing because of his alien person. If one stared long enough at him, just long enough, they could see it about him, something different in the air surrounding him. He was not normal and it made him captivating.

Wordlessly, switching hands with which to hold the banana pudding, he reached out with his free hand and clasped hers in a heavy movement, plunking it down on top of hers. And when she looked at him wearily he merely studied her for a long moment before smiling at her cheerily.

She returned his smile, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"I have seen her, by the way," he added on dismissively.

Rose gaped at him for a moment. "Where?" she asked him.

Leaning his head back against the pillow under his shoulders he fixed her with a blank look. "Outside your old flat," he replied, echoing her early suggestion. And he just stared at her silently.

She returned the look, feeling her insides clench for a thick moment. He meant just the other day when he had followed her into the alley and she had avoided his questions. Still silent but with a resigned sigh she shifted to let both legs slide down heavily to the floor and she pulled his hand into her lap, absentmindedly playing with his fingers as she allowed herself a moment to think.

She had no idea what was going on. Either this Martha Jones knew exactly what had transpired days earlier and was beating around the bush about it or this Martha Jones was not the same Martha Jones she had run into before. But if she was the same, there was the chance that she was hiding knowing her altogether for the simple fact that it could possibly interfere with the timeline. But if the Martha Jones she had seen in the street and now here in the hospital was not the same girl, why hadn't she acknowledged the Doctor in the street earlier? Assuming it hadn't been _her_ Doctor she had run into, seeing as how he had been in the hospital since the day before. Was it possible there was yet another Martha Jones running around in this cryptic timeline? Was it possible even the Doctor was now making frivolous trips in his line?

Her head hurt.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked her quietly.

She bowed her head, tracing the creases of his hand gently. "No," she whispered.

His fingers closed around hers, trapping them against his palm and when she glanced at him he was smiling again. She sent him back a ghost of her own smile, a mere twitch to the corners of her lips. And then he was dragging his hand free and shoving aside the sheet of the bed. "Well, come on then," he said to her. As she looked at him with a frown at his suddenly jumpy exuberance he tossed her the container of pudding. Catching it on the fly and barely believing she had actually accomplished it she let out a small sound as he pulled his robe closed then yanked on her free wrist, pulling her after him.

"Where are we going?" she asked in a gasp, barely managing to set the pudding aside before she was hauled behind him.

"We're going to find out where this current is coming from," he replied and he paused at the doorway of the hospital room, glancing back over his shoulder and toward the window at the back of the room. "Well, he was right about the storm coming in. But look at the rain…"

"The rain?" Rose asked, looking as well. And she stiffened as she focused on the storm that had risen. "Doctor…the rain…"

"Is going up," he finished for her and he smiled at her. "Hospital. Strange. I love the TARDIS."

With a full smile now curling her lips she giggled and went to follow him out of the room just as a brilliant light flashed outside. Whirling back toward the window, Rose gasped, backing up into the wall and then a large crack sounded, the light wavering and pulsing. "Doctor-"

A moment later the entire hospital shook, throwing the two of them forward into the opposite wall of the tiny hallway leading out of the room. With a cry she crashed into the surface, the Doctor's hand tight in hers and he yanked her back into him as the hospital shook once more, the beds sliding, the door swinging to shut on them. Slamming the door open once more, the Doctor took hold of her with his free hand as well, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and dragging her back into the room, his eyes wide under a confused frown.

"What's going on?" she asked him loudly, barely heard over the sound of the hospital shaking, items smashing and slamming about behind them from the sterile corridors outside their room. "What's happening-"

Pulling her back toward the bed he sat her down and wound around her as she reached to hold on to him. And as the hospital shook once more he slipped on something and staggered, quickly looking down. "Oh, no!" he groaned, grimacing. "Banana pudding!"

Rose stared at him. "Doctor!" she shouted at him in disbelief.

"Bright light, right! On it!" Composing himself and circling around the spilled pudding, he slid toward the window just as the hospital gave a final shake and then fell eerily silent. Pausing beside the window and looking back toward Rose in the quiet, he was very aware of her heaving breaths and her hands clumping the bed sheets as the glow dwindled away and was replaced by the dim lights of the hospital.

Swallowing loudly, Rose hesitated before asking, "Is it over?"

And looking over his shoulder once more he stared out the window at the darkness that had suddenly taken over the gray morning. Eyes widening a bit he was greeted by the Earth, a misty blue in hue, close enough to touch if he had reached out the window. Looking outside and down he registered the uneven ground four stories below and the stars twinkling in the black night. And he paused for a long moment, thoughts whirling furiously.

"Oh…my God," Rose whispered from the bed. "We're on the moon."

At her shaky statement the Doctor stepped away from the window and toward the bed, yanking off his robe and pulling his side of the curtain closed. "My clothes, please," he ordered her as he began to unbutton his pajama top.

Looking at him dumbly for a moment as he started down the row of buttons she snapped to herself a moment later. Hurrying to the closet she opened the door, reaching in to pull out the blue suit and white shirt, the red tie twisted around the hangar. And tossing it on the bed as he got to the end of the buttons she yanked shut her side of the curtain and circled around the hidden bed, floating toward the window to stare.

The moon. They were on the moon. There was moon rock under the hospital and stars glittering in the sky. And the Earth. "The Earth. 's so big," she murmured as she stared, lifting her hands to the window and resting them on the glass. She couldn't even think straight, just gazing out and seeing what she was. She couldn't form a single coherent thought other than, "We're on the moon!" A second later she uttered, "Without the TARDIS!" And she whirled toward the sectioned off space the Doctor was changing in, realizing at that moment. "Doctor-"

There was a shuffle behind her and she looked over as Martha entered the room once more, followed by another medical student. "We're on the bloody moon!" she uttered to Rose as she came up beside her and Rose stared at her, lips parted around words but none coming out. As her friend came close to the window the three of them looked back out, silent for a long moment in awe.

"It's…amazing," Rose whispered solemnly in the never-ending quiet.

Beside her Martha looked at her and smiled in agreement. "Beautiful." And she lifted a hand toward the clasp of the window.

"Don't!" her friend cried. "You'll let out all the air!"

Martha looked at her friend. "But these windows aren't exactly airtight," she protested, motioning. "All the air would've been sucked out already but it wasn't-"

"Very good point," the Doctor said, yanking aside the curtains, now fully clothed and looking at Martha. "Brilliant, in fact. What was your name again?"

"Martha," she replied, her eyes trained on him as he waited, a smile almost making it to her lips.

"Jones, wasn't it?" And as Rose looked toward him he was hopping up beside Martha, looking out and then studying the windows themselves. "Well, question is now, how are we still breathing?" And he glanced down at Martha as she returned the look. "Is there a balcony on this floor? Or a veranda?"

"By the patient's lounge, yeah," she replied, motioning back over her shoulder.

"Lovely!" the Doctor said with a cheery smile. And he pulled away, holding a hand out toward Rose. "Wonderful meeting you then, Martha Jones! Come on, Rose."

Throwing her an uncomfortable look Rose reached out, taking hold of his hand and following wordlessly as he led her toward the doorway. "Careful with the banana pudding," he called back and then they were both gone out the door.

Martha was left looking after him, her friend beside her, and feeling that something had somehow just gone very wrong.

* * *

**Next Chapter - A Non-Human Chase:**

A moment later, anything he could have said to follow would never have stuck. One second he was dragging her to him, his eyes dark and frantic, the next he was bending his head and pressing his mouth to hers desperately, forcefully.


	9. A NonHuman Chase

**Chapter Eight – A Non-Human Chase:**

"So what do you think?" Rose asked him as they hesitated before the doors leading out onto the balcony. "I mean, on the moon? Who would do this? And why?"

The Doctor looked as confused as her but the tiniest bit more composed. "Don't know," he replied, taking hold of the door and looking at her.

She returned the look. "Go on then."

With a small smile the Doctor took hold of the handle and turned it, pushing open at the same time. Beside him Rose looked out, her eyes wide and there was no change in their air supply, no sound of a vacuum pulling it out. Nothing but the eerie silence of night. Stepping out slowly, they both looked about, staring in awe.

"We're on the moon," she whispered to him.

With a small grimace he whispered back, "Really, Rose, this repetitiousness of yours-"

"Shut it," she cut him off, a smile widening on her face. And she moved over to the edge of the balcony, reaching out for the brick border enclosing the balcony, the Doctor following at a more leisurely pace. They stood in silence for a long moment, merely staring at the Earth in the black, starry sky. They were standing in the Earth light, as gentle as moonlight would have been on them. As beautiful. "We left the TARDIS down there," she said quietly, gesturing to the misty blue planet before them.

Running a hand through his hair wearily and staring blankly, he groaned. "Yeah."

"So…we're stranded on the moon," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

He nodded slowly, lips puckering in defeat, his hair now sticking up in all sorts of directions and angles as his hand fell away. "Would seem so."

She nodded as well, leaning against the low wall of the balcony. "Ok. Then I guess we should start thinking about how to get out of here?"

Bending for a moment, the Doctor took something off the concrete floor of the balcony and into his hand, glancing up at her as he did so. "I never stopped," he confided and he pulled back then flung the object out into the night.

Something tangible but invisible pulsed as the piece connected with it, a blur of light that shimmered out like a ripple in water and then vanished.

"Force-field," he stated knowingly, observing the ripples as they faded away silently. "Keeping the air in. Which means-"

"Which means this is the only air we've got?" Rose demanded, snapping straight, her eyes widening. "W-what are we going to do? And there are people here! Hundreds, maybe more! And sick people, _old_ people!"

"It's what you would usually find in a hospital," the Doctor mused with a small shrug.

_"Doctor!"_

"Right." A hand flew back to his hair as he nodded, coming back to the matter at hand. "Hundreds, maybe more. Well, we should-"

From above them came a sudden rumble, the moon surface trembling beneath their feet. Frowning, Rose turned her eyes to the Doctor and he lifted his eyes from the balcony ground to return the glance before his eyes continued on toward the sky. Turning to peek over her shoulder, Rose looked up toward the sound and they were both witness to the sudden appearance of large ships, tall and cylindrical. The ships hovered overhead and slowly came into full view before them, touching down on the moon floor with an exhalation of smoke and moon rock. Staring with a gaping mouth, Rose merely lifted a numb hand and pointed.

The Doctor lifted his own hand and clasped hers, setting it down beside her once more. "Yes, I see them."

Watching as the ships settled in triangular formation in front of the hospital, the Doctor narrowed his eyes, hands finding their way into his pockets. He should have guessed, really. Beside him, Rose drew a bit closer as creatures, humanoid in form, appeared from the ships, clothed in dark armor and leather. Also drawing into formation, they began marching their way across the moon landscape toward the hospital, firm steps that seemed to suggest military form. "What are they?" she asked quietly.

"Judoon," the Doctor responded, his face dark.

They watched in silence as the small army passed through the force-field efficiently. The crowd below and in the hospital began to panic and flee in terror as they did, drawing away from the force. Looking over the edge of the balcony, Rose draped a hand across the Doctor's forearm, her fingers tight. "They're going mad," she remarked quietly, her tone subdued. "Isn't there something we can do?"

Without a word he flipped his arm to take hold of her wrist and began to drag her behind him, causing her to squeak softly as she was forced to follow. Slipping silently back through the glass doors into the hospital corridor, they floated down the hallway until they came out onto the main room overlooking the hospital lobby below. Falling into a crouch, the Doctor released Rose and hid himself at a distance along the balcony railing, studying the leather-clad aliens as they infiltrated the lobby.

One stepped forward, taking off his helmet.

"They're…rhinos?" Rose asked the Doctor in complete lighthearted confusion, a smile threatening to break over her face as she snuck up and crouched beside him. Somehow, in the utter gravity of the situation at hand, she couldn't help but find that small bit of humor in it, fitting herself closer to the balcony edge and squeezing by a reaching potted plant. Perhaps she was going mad herself.

The main Judoon officer did indeed have the large head of a rhinoceros, his human-shaped figure clad in deep black armor and leather. His voice was gruff and low as he opened his large jaws to speak. "Bo, sco, fo, do, no, kro, blo, co, sho, ro," he grunted into the lobby and the remaining Judoon raised and armed their weapons.

Rose threw the Doctor another look as a young doctor came forth below, his words unintelligible from where they crouched. "What is it?" she asked him in a stage whisper.

The main Judoon officer lifted a small device into his hand and hit a button that seemed to play back the doctor's voice. "Language assimilated," the Judoon growled raspily. "Designation: Earth English. You will be catalogued." And with that he shoved the young doctor against the wall and raised the device to the doctor's head, shining a brilliant blue light into his face.

Above, Rose shifted a step, her muscles tightening fearfully. "Doctor-"

"Category: Human," the Judoon stated roughly.

The young doctor managed to look the slightest bit relieved when the Judoon took hold of his hand and pointed it palm down, using the device to mark a black x along the top of his hand.

Rose settled once more, the Doctor not having moved the slightest bit, a contemplative look on his face.

Speaking gruffly, turning from the young doctor, the Judoon officer ordered, "Catalogue all suspects." And at his command the remaining Judoon sprang into action, taking hold of the people in the lobby one at a time and shining the same blue light at them, beginning to mark them as they searched.

"Ok, so talk," Rose ordered the Doctor beside her, peeking over the fake potted plant. She pushed aside the long sprouts and for a complete and strange moment she had the sudden urge to take a leaf into her mouth and chew on it thoughtfully. She threw a glance toward the Doctor who continued to study the scene below and mused vaguely if he ever wondered strange things the way she did. But then, being the Doctor…

"That's a total yes," she murmured to herself aloud.

"Sorry?" The Doctor came to life at last.

"Nothing," she piped up immediately. "So…talk. Tell me what's going on here because I am completely lost."

The Doctor turned his head toward her a bit, his eyes never leaving the lobby below. "The Judoon. Galactic police. They're cataloguing the hospital. Which is not good, actually. It means they're looking for something non-human. And that's bad news…"

"For you," Rose murmured, glancing at him.

"Correct," he nodded.

Turning her attention back to the Judoon below as they continued the cataloguing, Rose leaned toward the Doctor and asked, "But why were we moved to the moon? Couldn't they have done all this on Earth?"

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Neutral territory, the moon. Used an H2O scoop to get us up here. Left my trusty TARDIS down there." And he sounded the slightest bit sad.

Rose reached a hand out and nudged him gently. "You and me both, yeah?" she said to him with a wry yet comforting smile.

He returned her look, glancing once more below to the Judoon as they continued to fan out. "Well, come on then. Let's see if we can find out why they're here." And he lifted himself a little bit, still maintaining a crouch, as he reached out to take her hand.

She allowed him, also beginning to back away from the edge of the balcony and together they slipped out quietly, back along the way they had come. Looking about thoughtfully as they pulled out of sight from the lobby, Rose followed the Doctor as he finally straightened and then peered first into one room and then another, cocking his head with each search.

"What are you looking for?" she asked him in the quiet of the hallway, still feeling the need to remain a tiny bit crouched.

"That." He motioned as he paused outside a room and he dragged her in before releasing her hand absentmindedly. Dropping his lanky frame into a seat and sliding toward a waiting computer he said, "Keep watch outside. Keep me to date of their progress."

She threw him a look from the doorway. "Their progress? Of what, the alien rhinos?" she asked him bluntly.

He didn't grace that with a response, taking hold of the computer and aiming his sonic screwdriver at it intently. With a last look, Rose popped back out of the room, cautiously winding her way back toward the lobby and then tilting her head to listen. She could hear them advancing but was uncertain if the clomping of the Judoon march drifted upward from the lobby below or the emergency staircases on either side of her. And after a moment she realized it didn't matter. If she could hear from the three directions that well it meant they were all over and quickly heading their way. She slid to one of the emergency exits and peered out into the sterile staircase behind the door, hesitant. They were slowly heading up, she realized, as the sound of their approach came louder from the staircase. Darting back toward the door of the room where she had left the Doctor, she said breathlessly, "They've reached the third floor. What are they looking for?"

His hair, upon closer inspection, was standing taller than she had ever seen it, no doubt from his efforts to pull it out in frustration. "Something that looks human but isn't. Perhaps a shape-changer."

Rose hesitated as he swiveled in the seat a bit, having shoved aside the computer and pushed away from the desk impatiently. "Then how about we hide you until they find what they're looking for and hopefully they'll send us back to Earth once they're done?"

He shook his head faintly. "No, if they suspect the hospital of harboring a fugitive they'll sentence it to execution. It. Everyone. All of us. And who knows if that will happen before or after everyone in this hospital suffocates."

She stared at the back of his head in disbelief as he swiveled once more. "You're serious."

"Oh yes," he replied with a definitive nod.

Dropping her gaze away numbly, Rose struggled to understand his words. It would mean the death of hundreds, perhaps thousands of innocent lives. Foolish and useless deaths. "What do we do?" she asked him quietly, shaking her head as if to dislodge the vision of all those deaths.

With a soft sigh the Doctor sat forward in the chair once more, reaching for the computer yet again. "I'm going to see about restoring the backup files on the computer. See if you can find the doctor from earlier, the older one from-"

"The Ben Franklin guy?"

The Doctor nodded, waving her away. "Right. See if he knows of anyone who was admitted in the past week with unusual symptoms. Maybe he'll know of someone."

With her own uncertain nod Rose floated back out into the hallway and glanced both ways before heading further down the corridor. She didn't have a first clue where to find the older doctor and if he happened to be on another floor she was going to have to apologize to her own Doctor because she was not about to traipse on down to the floors below in search of the man.

Although the Judoon would categorize her as human once she was inspected, so perhaps it wouldn't be such a hard task to search another floor?

She pondered it as she poked her head into a room that resembled an office and she felt her breath cut off abruptly.

Before her was the older doctor she had been searching for, stretched out on the floor, pale in death. Her lips parting, she glanced just a bit to the side, next to the corpse of the doctor to an old woman leaning over him, her back to Rose, a straw in her hand. And was she drinking from his neck through the straw? She felt a sudden revulsion rise in her throat, a hand clasping over her mouth soundlessly. Instantly swallowing to stop herself from choking up, she silently spun and headed back in the direction of the Doctor.

"I found her," she gasped from behind her hand as she reached the computer room and she mindlessly pressed her back to the cold wall to breathe in deeply. Her figure trembled, disgust and bile threatening to rise and she tightened her hand against her mouth, focusing on breathing in deeply and exhaling firmly. Even her exhalations shook as she released them.

"You what?" he asked, spinning toward her with a frown, sonic screwdriver in his grip.

"I found her. The alien you're looking for," she repeated, dropping her hand away and swallowing yet again. The cold wall at her back calmed her, cooling the heat that had risen with the bile. She inhaled deeply through her mouth, feeling it soothe her and she composed herself enough to say, "She was drinking from him with a…a _straw!_ Literally, she had the straw to his neck and was _drinking_ his blood-" And she cut off once more, fighting the urge to lift her hand back to her mouth again even though the mere thought of ingesting blood was having a terrible effect on her.

The Doctor's face registered realization at her words, his mouth popping open in an o. "Of course. Shape changer. Internal shape changer. She wasn't drinking blood. She was assimilating it-"

"Doctor," Rose stated, her face wrinkled in disgust.

"If she can assimilate the doctor's blood, mimic the morphology, she can register as human. We've got to find her and show the Judoon. Come on!" And with that he lunged to his feet and took hold of her hand, dragging her as he sped out the door and into the hallway. "Where was she last?"

"Down the hall," Rose replied and she made a small sound as he yanked her behind his figure, practically dragging her. "But we have to be careful, Doctor. The Judoon, they're-"

And they slid to a halt beside an emergency exit just as it was slammed open, a Judoon already pointing the blue light into the Doctor's face from a mere inch away.

_"Non-human!"_

Sound caught in Rose's throat, her mouth falling open even as the Doctor spun away and dragged her behind him. "C'mon!"

With a stunted breath she took off with him, glancing over her shoulder and instantly ducking her head as the Judoon opened fire on their racing figures, barely missing them. "They're shooting at us!"

"Yes, they are! So I suggest moving a bit faster there!"

Banging through the opposite emergency exit they darted up the staircase, Rose casting frantic glances behind her as the two of them came out onto a floor and burst in through another set of emergency doors. Here the floor was silent though littered with heaving human bodies.

"Doctor," she uttered in horror, a hand lifting to clamp down on her mouth. She had completely forgotten about the dwindling air situation in the chase and horror but now that they had stepped into the middle of it, she could sense the strain around her. "They're running out-"

"I see it," he replied tersely as he dragged her several yards. And he suddenly turned to her in mid-step, studying her intently. "How about you? How are you feeling?'

She looked up at him, struggling to compose herself even as she fought the urge to tremble ceaselessly. "I'm fine. I'm good. No problem."

He continued to stare at her for a long moment as if not convinced but as she screwed up her face and met his gaze head on he nodded slightly, finally turning away. "Ok, what do we know? Drinking from a straw. Has to be a plasmavore. Probably on the run for something. From something. But what could she be doing now? She's still not safe. The Judoon could execute us all, her included."

Rose looked up at him as he ran a hand through his wild hair, his eyes darting about in thought. "What?" she asked him, drawing a step closer.

He hesitated, his lips moving as he took a step himself and then took that same step back. "Think, think, think," he ordered himself quietly, his eyes shifting recklessly, his lean frame brimming with pent up anxiety. "If I was a plasmavore where would I-" And he came to a stop as his eyes caught on a large sign down the sterile hall. "Oh. Oh..."

"What? What is it?" Rose asked him quietly, turning to follow his line of sight.

The sudden clomping of sound behind them brought them to spin about. And down where they had come out onto the floor they caught sight of the Judoon making their way in their direction, steadfast.

"Find the non-human! Execute!"

A frenzied expression crossed the Doctor's face as he whirled back around to look down the opposite hallway. "Ok. Ok, Rose, I need a favor," he said quickly.

Rose tore her eyes from the Judoon tramping down the hallway toward them and looked at the Doctor. "What? Anything, just name it," she said to him hastily. "And make it fast 'cause-"

"I need you to hold them off," he said matter-of-factly, spinning toward her once more. And his expression clearly said, _'Sucks to be you.'_

She came to a stop, for a single insignificant moment wondering if he was the kind of person to actually say that to her. It would seem strange to hear those words come out of his otherwise clever mouth. "Sorry. What?" she demanded in disbelief a second later as his words took hold. And she glanced over her shoulder once more, motioning toward the Judoon streaking down the hallway. "Them? Hold _them_ off?" she echoed him, her voice tainted with incredulity. "Have you _seen_ them-"

The Doctor took a step toward her, his hands lifting to her face gingerly. "And forgive me. Forgive me for this-"

Her lips parting, she stared at him as he moved in closer, still pointing back toward the Judoon. "But-"

"It means nothing," he was saying over her own words and he was speaking rapidly, sounding hurried, his shoulders heaving as if from exertion. "Honestly. It means-" And even as he went to say it again, as his hands closed around her face and as he pulled her toward him, she was staring at him still, all thought flying from her head. "It means-"

_"Doctor-"_

A moment later, anything he could have said to follow would never have stuck. One second he was dragging her to him, his eyes dark and frantic, the next he was bending his head and pressing his mouth to hers desperately, forcefully. She felt her entire world drop out from under her, a gasp breaking from her and quickly muffled by him even as she felt all thought flee her mind. After that there was nothing but her body suspended in space, in time, and in a cold and sterile hallway with creatures in leather heading toward them but she didn't care, couldn't bring herself to _care_. All she understood, numbly, was his mouth against hers and her instinctive response to him, her hands lifting to his head, yanking him closer. He sagged against her as she pulled at him, his hands slipping away from her face to catch to her neck, dragging her to his lean frame, bending her head back impossibly. She didn't imagine the slight touch of his tongue, the small sweep of it against hers. Nor did she imagine the sound he made as she responded with her own gentle groan, her fingers twisting into his perfect hair and finding it to feel exactly as she had always wanted it to feel in a moment like this. It was as if he needed all of her, every caress, every breath she took, as if he needed it all.

And then, as quickly as he had initiated it, he broke from her, recoiling away as if he didn't know who she was. She had no choice but to let him go, her heart pounding roughly in her chest, hard enough to threaten to burst clear through it. They stared at each other, both heaving for breath, both silent.

Then, a pained expression crossing his face, he said, "Just…hold them off. We'll…finish this later." And with that he turned and raced off, leaving her standing in the middle of the hallway to look off after him.

Her head completely blank of thought, she fought for a single clear breath, uncertain if her breathlessness stemmed from the waning air or the kiss. With her blood beating angrily through her veins and her heart pounding loud enough to be audible, she whirled around just as the Judoon overtook her.

"Find the non-human. Execute."

"Ok," she said quickly, inwardly cursing the Doctor for leaving her completely winded and thoughtless. She held her hands up before her in a gesture she clearly recognized as belonging to the Doctor as the humanoid rhinos came to a stop before her, already reaching. "Look, we know who you're looking for. She's this old bat, I don't know her name but she was just-"

She felt a gasp break from her as she was taken hold of and forced roughly against the cold wall. One of the Judoon lifted their scanner to her and she reflexively shut her eyes as they washed the blue light over her. "Human. With non-human traits suspected. Non-human element confirmed. Authorize full scan. What are you? _What are you?"_

Opening her eyes reluctantly, Rose stared at them, her voice dying on her lips at his words. "Oh…" she uttered. He had done this to gain time, that's all it had been. She swallowed, aware that she could still taste him on her lips even as the Judoon began to scan her fully. And she was going to have to sit there and let them do their entire scan just to give him time to do _something._ Her head fell to the side in defeat as lights were directed at her, small devices scanning her.

She caught sight of movement behind the Judoon in front of her, a very familiar lanky man in a blue suit hovering beside an equally familiar dark-skinned girl in a lab coat. Frowning slightly, she arched her neck a bit more to see better, now ignoring the Judoon before her as he grunted at her. And what little breath she had left abruptly caught in her throat.

Running his hand through his hair in panicked thought, the Doctor took a step away from the girl, looking down the hallway and then around toward her, his eyes shifting completely past her as if she were invisible. Martha took hold of his wrist, questioning him by her gestures and he came to a rigid stop, his eyes focusing on something at the end of the hall. Rose looked as well, feeling that utter sense of having already done all this and now her eyes came to stop on the sign at the end of the hallway that read MRI.

His hand falling from his hair, his mouth curved in understanding, the Doctor whirled back toward Martha and held his hands out toward her warily, seeming to explain something to her. She nodded at him in confusion, her hands also held out at her sides. Then, without another word, the Doctor took hold of Martha by the jaw, long slender fingers bending against the dark curve of her perfect cheek and he kissed her, one long, elegant yet hurried kiss.

Rose stared, unaware of the Judoon before her, disbelieving that she stood on her own two feet even as her heart dropped away from her still and quivering form. And now she had no breath because of her pounding pulse, her air thinning.

"Confirmed: Human. Traces of facial contact with non-human."

She flinched at his words, her eyes darting to the rhino before her and then back toward the Doctor and Martha, her gaze pained as the Doctor pulled away from Martha and then took off past her, not once looking her way. Parting her lips to call to him as he raced by, the sound died on her lips, her frame falling wearily against the wall.

"Continue the search," the Judoon before her ordered his partner and he pulled forth a piece paper, shoving it into Rose's hand.

"What is this?" Rose asked him numbly, breathlessly, her eyes caught on the Doctor's figure as he turned the corner and vanished.

"Compensation," the Judoon officer responded and he turned from her curtly to march down the hallway after the Doctor.

"Gee…" she murmured, finding it somehow ironic and lacking. "Thanks." Turning her head back toward Martha, she stilled when she discovered the girl to be gone from the hallway. "Hey, w-wait a minute!" she cried and she spun to follow after the Judoon.

* * *

**Next Chapter - Chapter Nine: Two Hearts - **

He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead. She was going to _allow_ him to be dead. Not now and not like this. Not after she had been allowed to cross back into her own world to be with him.


	10. Two Hearts

**Chapter Nine – Two Hearts:**

Upon entering the MRI room directly behind the Judoon, Rose slid to a stop as she heard a woman's voice shouting dismissively from inside. Pushing past several Judoon soldiers blocking the doorway, she froze as she first noticed a flickering machine to the back of the room. She didn't know what the machine was but the sight of it throwing light and shadow across the looming Judoon did not inspire a sense of relief. It was only then, however, with the flickering lights shooting around her, that she caught sight of the long legs clad in blue suit pants on the floor. "Doctor?" she asked softly, the air dragging from her lungs painfully, and she shoved one last Judoon officer out of the way to stand in front of them, rigid. She followed the line of those long legs up toward the top half of the Doctor's form before her, sprawled on the floor, his pale face turned to the side and away from her. _"Doctor!"_

"Scan him. Confirmation. Deceased," one of Judoon officers barked as he trailed the blue light across the Doctor's limp figure.

Standing before them, a straw in her hand, the old woman from before waited almost innocently, observing the Judoon and Rose herself. Rose turned to glance at her slowly, her hands tightening at her sides but they seemed almost light, lifeless. "Wha-" she whispered faintly, half choking on the word, the air around her seeming thin now.

She turned a bit at feeling another presence in the room suddenly. At the doorway Martha Jones looked in, her wide eyes staring at the numerous Judoon in awe.

"Case closed," the first Judoon officer stated, tilting his head to look down at the Doctor.

_"No-"_ Rose gasped. Her cry strangled in her throat, a sudden block filling it, and she lifted a hand to it momentarily, swallowing. It was getting difficult now, much too difficult to even breathe. She kept forgetting about the thinning air supply, her mind streaking to the people who were dying in the floors below. Panic beginning to rise inside of her, she latched onto the first Judoon officer forcefully, her fingers clawing into talons around his armor. "Wait. _Wait!" _she uttered, her voice rasping as she wheezed, as she pleaded. He was indifferent to her, merely lowering his blue scanner, his head lifting away from the Doctor's form on the floor._ "_Y-You can't just…just…_she did it!"_ Rose whirled on the old woman, pointing with one hand, and she didn't bother to hold back the anger that mounted inside her, the complete painful fury. "She did it! She killed him! She did!"

The Judoon officer turned away from the Doctor, already marching, causing Martha to recoil into the hallway once more as they neared.

_"But she isn't human!"_ Rose shouted at them and now it was a task to breathe. She came to a stop, suddenly aware that the air seemed to be thick as opposed to thin earlier, still hard to take in. Lifting a hand to her throat once more, she hunched forward, straining to breathe, needing to make them understand.

"Oh, but I am," the old woman before her said with a small smile, bringing her to turn her head slowly toward her. "I've been catalogued." And she exhibited the back of her hand, the deep x scarring her pale, wrinkled skin.

Rose stared at the mark, feeling as if the black x there was suddenly heavily coming down on her. It wasn't possible. She wasn't _human_. She couldn't have been-

"Wait," Rose said once more and this time she reached toward the nearest Judoon, snapping the scanner clear out of his grip. The officer turned immediately but Rose was already pointing the blue light at the woman, her jaw clenching intently.

_Please, please work._

"Scan all you want," the woman said with an absentminded wave as Rose trained the light on her, the device shaking in her grip. "I've already told you-"

He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead. She wasn't going to _allow_ him to be dead. Not now and not like this. Not after she had been allowed to cross back into her own world to be with him. She steadfastly refused to even lower her eyes to look at his prone figure before her, merely seeing the blue of the suit out of the corner of her eye but not allowing herself to look down. Almost like the childhood game. If she didn't see it, it wasn't there. If she didn't look at him, it couldn't be him there dead.

She shook her head at herself mindlessly. No. It was him. And yet, even if he was momentarily dead, he still had a chance to regenerate. There was still a way. But the people in the hospital, with the dwindling air supply, had no chance at all if she didn't do _something._

_"Non-human!"_ the Judoon officer suddenly stated gruffly, causing the old woman to turn to him in astonishment, Rose releasing a breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding.

_"What?"_

"Confirm analysis," the Judoon stated and he took a step toward the woman as Rose aimed the device at her yet again. He seized it from her hand, pointing it himself into the woman's face.

"B-but, I'm human-" the woman stammered, backing away a step, her straw dropping to the floor as she did so.

"Confirmed. Plasmavore," the Judoon barked at her, his snout wrinkling. "I charge you with the crime of murdering the princess of Patrival Regency Nine."

The woman merely looked at them for a long moment, her hands clenching into fists. Rose took a step away, wanting to add to his charge, wanting to say something to the woman but her eyes shifted sideways, finally catching sight of the Doctor's legs. Upon doing so, anything she had wanted to say melted away into heaving silence. Even the breaths she wanted to take, to calm herself, were too much of a strain then.

And a moment later it didn't matter as the older woman abruptly began to shriek. "She deserved it!" she spat, the blood draining from her face and leaving her white as a sheet. "Those pink cheeks and those blond curls and that simpering voice! She was _begging_ for the bite of a plasmavore!"

"Do you confess?" the Judoon demanded over her shouts, and now the other officers were returning to the room, lining up behind their main official.

"Confess?" the woman responded, a wild smile suddenly breaking across her face. "She _deserved_ it!"

Rose looked toward the Judoon quickly and then back to the hallway, catching a glimpse of Martha as the dark-skinned young woman came to the doorway once more. Upon seeing her she realized that Martha was also having a hard time breathing, her shoulders heaving from the effort.

"Verdict: Guilty. Sentence: Execution," the Judoon said hoarsely, taking a firm stance as he barked at the old woman.

"Enjoy your victory!" the woman screamed, her face twisting malevolently. "You're all going to _burn-"_

A moment later two officers behind the first Judoon raised their weapons and fired at the woman. Rose spun away, unwilling to see as the woman disintegrated behind flashes of bright light, her voice falling away in a wail that dwindled into silence. Turning back around once she realized there was no other sound except the sparking of the machine in the room, she encountered nothing left of the old woman.

"Case closed," the Judoon said with a note of finality to his tone.

Staring for a moment at the empty spot where the woman had only previously stood, Rose could only swallow thickly, her breath hitching. Then, turning her face away, she snapped back to herself and darted toward the Doctor's form, sliding to rest on her knees beside his figure. "Help me," she pleaded breathlessly, turning to look at the Judoon over her shoulder as she reached out to the Doctor. "Please. You have to-"

From the doorway Martha came into the room, squeezing past the Judoon and coming to a stop as she stared at the machine in the back of the room. "Th-that's not…" she uttered in a choking gasp, her breathing strained. She lifted a hand and pointed shakily to the flickering machine. "That's not…supposed to do that-"

The Judoon officer raised his device once more, passing it over the MRI machine across the room. "Scans detect lethal acceleration of mono-magnetic pulse," he stated in a gruff tone.

Rose and Martha stared at him, Rose's hand trailing across the Doctor's cheek fearfully.

"Well, do something!" Martha cried to the Judoon, motioning violently. "Stop it!"

The head Judoon did not move from his position. "Our jurisdiction had ended. Judoon will evacuate." And with that the Judoon began to turn and leave once more, lining up to march out the door.

"You're…_what?"_ Martha demanded, following them with widening eyes, disbelieving. "You _can't!"_

Trembling, breathing shakily, Rose leaned over the Doctor, panic rising in her. She was running out of air just trying to wake him. She couldn't even begin to imagine the people suffocating on the floors below. "Doctor. Doctor, wake up! Please…wake up," she pleaded with his unconscious form, shaking him. He remained still, his limp frame shifting as she tugged at him. Frantically, she looked over her shoulder to Martha who was at the doorway, still screaming after the Judoon. "Martha! Martha-"

The dark-skinned woman quickly returned to her, turning her attention to the medical emergency at hand. "I'm here, I'm here-"

"I need you to help me, to walk me through this," Rose said to her rapidly, heaving through the thickness in her lungs and throat. "We're…running out of air…but I need to wake him."

Martha gazed at her sadly for a long moment before lifting a hand to clasp her by the arm, her touch meant to be comforting but not achieving it. "Rose, you said…right? That was your name?" And she hesitated as Rose looked at her, fear written across her face. "I'm sorry, Rose…he's gone. We need to find a way-"

_"He's not gone!"_ Rose rapped out in a single breath, the slight beginnings of anger rising inside her once more and coloring her tone. She needed that anger, needed it to block out the terror at the fact that the Doctor really could be dead before her. Swallowing to calm herself, to allow her a moment to take in a deep, full breath, she continued. "Trust me. He hasn't regenerated yet which means I still have a chance. Just help me because he can get us out of here!"

Martha stared at her, her breathing raspy. "Regenerated…what are you…" she asked her softly. But as Rose glared at her in determination, the dark-skinned girl clenched her jaw, hands fisting at her side. With a short, firm nod, she pushed Rose over to kneel beside the Doctor's head, crouching down next to her. "Ok," she began, her words thinning even as she strove to speak crisply and urgently. "I need you…to breathe for me. I'll start, you breathe…into him. Pinch his nose, tilt his head back…you got that?"

"I got it, I got it," Rose chanted in a wheeze and she did as she was told, pausing before the Doctor and looking toward Martha as the woman got into position beside her, her hands clasping together and settling over the Doctor's torso.

"Ok, when I tell you, breathe." And she began to perform pulmonary resuscitation, keeping her arms straight, counting off in pants. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Breathe."

Rose swallowed before inhaling as deeply as she could and then leaning over to breathe into the Doctor's mouth. She expelled the entire breath she had taken and upon doing so she sat back, fighting down fear as she found herself realizing that he was cold. His mouth, his skin. The Doctor was always cold though, with a low resting temperature. It had to be that.

It had to be.

Martha continued to pump, continued to rattle off instructions, precise and firm, with Rose doing exactly as ordered. But it was only after Rose had breathed three times that she suddenly realized frantically. _"Two hearts!_ He has…two hearts!" she gasped, straining. Her vision was swimming, her throat raw from attempting to find air for the Doctor. She needed air herself and it was so unbearably thin now.

"He…has _what?"_ Martha stared at her, heaving for breath herself, a slight sheen of sweat on her temples.

"Other…side," Rose choked, swallowing. She was having difficulty merely breathing, having to resort to small gasps and even shorter sentences. "Two hearts! Do…the other side! _Quick!"_

Almost reluctantly, Martha traded sides warily, still looking to her as if she had lost her mind. As Rose nodded she began once more, leaning over the Doctor.

Rose waited for her and then went to inhale as Martha uttered for her to breathe. Her breath caught then as she realized that she hadn't taken in nearly enough. And the precious remaining air she did have seemed to tangle in her throat for a moment. Dizziness immediately swooped down around her, almost blinding her as it came out in a rush.

_"Rose!"_ came Martha's strangled voice.

Nodding to her and prodding herself on, she attempted once more, throwing her head back and breathing in as deeply as she could. And quickly, she bent toward the Doctor, pressed her lips to cover his and breathed the air into him.

She dimly heard Martha exclaim, "My God, he _does_ have two hearts-" But she could only slip to the side, darkness abruptly clouding her vision. A moment later, as the Doctor suddenly came to life with a heaving gasp, she lost all feeling and fell away into unconsciousness.

* * *

The Doctor sat up instantly, his frame stiffening painfully for a moment before he began to cough furiously. Through tears rising in his eyes he caught sight of Martha Jones as the girl was shoved back onto her rear, her figure straining for air. Dizzily, the Doctor looked to Martha's right and encountered Rose unconscious there on the floor. Lifting a heavy hand, he reached for her but then looked back toward Martha, the hair rising on the back of his neck.

The dark-skinned woman had dragged herself to the wall, leaning against it wearily. And as he turned his attention to her all she did was lift a limp hand and point behind him.

Whirling on his rear, he stared at the flickering MRI machine, confused for a split second. Then, in understanding, he dragged himself to his feet, forcing strength into his limbs. He staggered to the machine and fell to his knees as his muscles gave, slipping beside the console. The machine was overloading, lights flashing erratically, and he reached into his suit pocket, producing his sonic screwdriver. Dragging himself closer to the console with the strength in his arms alone, he pointed the screwdriver and flicked it, running it over the controls quickly, frantically. He didn't know how long the MRI machine had been overloading but by the way it shook, he was sure he didn't have much time left.

After a moment the MRI machine shut down, slowing with a keening whine then falling silent. Hesitant, lifting his head to look about, the Doctor waited for a long second. But he felt as the power drained away, as the lights flickered off.

With a broken sigh of relief he settled to the floor heavily, his shoulders heaving with his efforts for a single deep breath. He also needed air but he could do without it thanks to his respiratory bypass. Which he supposed was good enough-

He suddenly remembered and whirled toward Rose, his eyes shifting from her to Martha, unconscious against the wall. Dragging himself once more to his feet he staggered toward Martha and collapsed beside her, quickly scrambling. His hand lifted and rested gingerly against the weak pulse in her neck and he breathed in relief, his fingers slipping down her smooth cheek for a moment as he leaned his head against the cold wall wearily. There was so little air. How long had he been unconscious for?

Pulling away from Martha, he opened his eyes and dragged himself over to Rose to do the same, checking her pulse. It, too, was weak, far weaker than he liked, and he abruptly lifted his head as he realized that the Judoon were nowhere in sight.

Falling heavily onto his back, dragging in a ragged breath, he reached his hand out and took Rose's firmly, turning his head to look at her unconscious face. She was pale, her lips slightly parted, and her breaths were shallow, nearly imperceptible. Gazing at her in silence, he didn't know what to do then. The TARDIS was on Earth and he had dared to hope that once the Judoon had found or eliminated the threat that they would have-

Far off, his ears picked up the heavenly sound he had been waiting for. The sound of rainfall, of water hitting windows, first a drizzle then a sudden downpour. And he felt a small smile curl his lips as white light exploded around them, drowning out his vision, Rose's hand twitching in his.

* * *

"So once I realized that she was looking to use the magnetic pulse to fry everyone in the hospital and the Earth, I tricked her into drinking my blood. But she only did that after I turned my back on her. Whacked me a good one, too, see here?" The Doctor bent his head toward her, tapping a rather nasty looking bump along the crown.

Rose looked at it blankly, seeing the bump but then looking away as he straightened once more, rubbing the spot. "Anyway, she'd been using the hospital to hide but once the Judoon took the hospital to the moon she knew that if they didn't find the culprit they would hold the entire hospital responsible. It was at that point that she began to plan her escape. But I also knew that if she drank my blood and was scanned once more that she would read as non-human. So that's how it ended up." He shrugged at her as he rambled on.

"So…you just…let her drink your blood. Let her kill you, really," she asked him numbly.

They rested against a tree, once more on Earth. After the execution of the plasmavore the Judoon had indeed returned the hospital to Earth, setting it back in its place. But to explain the strange events to the people of London was not something that they were up to doing even if they had wanted to. As such they had snuck away from the hospital the second they'd had the chance, the Doctor leading the way back to the TARDIS.

Halfway across the lot Rose had faltered wearily and had needed to rest for a moment.

"Well, yes," the Doctor shrugged again and he ran a hand through his hair, wincing as his palm connected with the bump once more. And then he quickly darted to her side as she lifted herself away from the tree.

"I'm fine," she murmured to him as he wound an arm around her waist and helped her stand straight.

Holding her to him, he pulled away from the tree she had been resting against, supporting her a bit even as she flailed faintly. "Yes, but you were unconscious for a little bit, I think you should rest up a bit-"

"When I get there I will," she said to him brusquely and she shrugged him off gently, her face withdrawn. He let her, a small frown crossing his face at her change in attitude but releasing her nonetheless. Bowing his head, his hand slipping away from her back, he glanced over toward the hospital to see Martha Jones beside the back end of an ambulance, seated just inside. As she met his eyes he managed a small smile for her and a wave. Her face lit up at his gesture but then he turned his head away and promptly rammed into Rose who had come to a stop in front of him. Lifting his eyes to her he found her to be staring at him with an expression close to pain.

"Are you all right?" he asked her quickly.

He realized a moment later that she wasn't, that she seemed nowhere near all right. She seemed downright broken. She proved him right a moment later when she whispered, "No, Doctor. I'm not all right." And with a pointed look over in Martha's direction followed by a simple nod she turned from him and continued on to the TARDIS alone.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Chapter Ten – What You See When You're Not Looking:**And completely at a loss to what she had just evaded. He was left with his lips against her jaw, inhaling her scent, her figure between his knees and pressed to him as if she belonged there. Dragging his head back a small bit he said to her quietly, his voice raw, "Let's go somewhere else. Not here."


	11. What You See When You're Not Looking

**A/N:** Hey you guys, real quick here. I wanted to say thank you for the reviews and also ask that if you do leave a review, please leave a signed one! I love responding to reviews but if you're not signed in there's no way for me to respond or to really know if I'd be leaving the right person a response if I search you out on . So keep leaving reviews, I love it! And sign in so I can respond and say thanks again and chat you up! :)

* * *

**Chapter Ten – What You See When You're Not Looking:**

She had left him. The second she'd had the chance, she had left the TARDIS silently, coming out into the darkness of the night and looking about thoughtlessly. She had no idea where to go and no idea where she wanted to be but she didn't want to be there for the moment. She needed to get away from him, from the TARDIS, from the confusion that was presented with the events that had transpired earlier that day, or in the few days before. Seeing people where they hadn't been a moment before, visits from strangers from what seemed to be the future, seeing different people doing the same things that had just happened to her. It was confusing, all of it.

She didn't want to admit it but she also needed to just get away from him and everything that he offered. And everything that he didn't. Walking gingerly through the night she looked over her shoulder to see the TARDIS standing in the light from a street lamp, almost like a blue beacon. Shining in the bright light, everything else falling into shadow beside it, around it. None of it mattering except the TARDIS. Stopping to stare at it she couldn't help but be overcome with emotion. That phone box was everything to her now. Not even her mother's flat, not even this home universe, this place she had once called home. None of it held a candle to that lovely phone box. None of it could ever hope to mean more to her than that blue phone box. She felt her breath catch a bit as she wondered what it was he had snuck away to do that had allowed her that moment to escape.

She realized in the end it didn't matter. Even if he had been at her side the entire time she would have told him she needed a breath of fresh air. Alone. And he would have had no choice but to let her go. Because she needed to go for the moment. She needed to get away and think. Think about everything that was happening and wonder why she hadn't told him about Martha's visit, of her words. She rounded the corner and began to walk, just walk. To put some distance between herself and her phone box home.

It could be the same still, couldn't it? She was still the same person only with a few months of lost time. And he was still the same although a bit more somber, a bit more withdrawn at times. He still had never told her how long she had been gone and she was no fool to think that it really had only taken him two hours to come up with the method to return her to this world. But she would not ask him about it. Once he had brushed aside her question the first time around she knew better than to ask him again.

The city was quiet tonight. Or perhaps she just hadn't reached the hubbub of it all. But the more she walked the more she saw of the lights, the pubs, the restaurants. Her other world hadn't been like this. They had been a bit more withdrawn, a bit more conservative once Torchwood had become a defining institute. The world had turned gray then. But here, the world was bright and alive. People laughed and there was so much love and cheer in the air. This was home. She glanced into pub windows as she walked, as she floated almost like a ghost through the city. Raucous laughter burst from one pub, a group of friends slamming down shots. A couple sat in a restaurant, lost in each other over dinner, over candlelight. She hesitated, slowing slightly to gaze at them with a twist in her heart. Gentle music drifted from a department store as the doors closed behind a customer who was hurrying to a taxi. All around there was so much sound and yet, even as she walked, it all faded away to the beating of her heart, to the gentle breath of the wind. There was nothing but those sounds as she gazed at everyone she passed, as she raised her eyes to the night sky and saw the stars. And for a moment she could almost see them disappearing. What would the world be reduced to then, a sky without stars?

She passed a person who looked haggard but so very alive, loaded down with groceries. And the couple behind the shopper held hands and laughed as they hurried along, drawing close to each other, their pace quickening. A moment later they burst out running, passing the woman with the groceries and laughing as they flew. She turned to follow them with her eyes, her lips parting, and she had run like that with her Doctor so many times. Looking back over her shoulder as she had run, her hand clasped in his. He always led her because he had always known the way. And then she had looked ahead also, still running, but laughing now and he had turned his head to look back toward her as they had run together, as they had dashed toward some incredible future. His wide laughing grin, his jubilant eyes at seeing new things but also at seeing old things but through new eyes, her eyes. His hair, thick and wild, floating as he had turned from looking ahead to look for her, to make sure she had been ok, always. Lithe, fluid figure running, racing, pent up with giddy emotion and awe. Because, the same way she did, he saw the world, the universe; as one huge surprise he had only uncovered tiny bits of. There was always something new for him, something wonderful out there that he had yet to see, yet to discover.

But he hadn't always been like that. His past incarnation hadn't been like that. He had been dark, angry. Bitter. And grief-stricken even if he had never shown it to her. All the smiles and cheer that had come with this new package, it had all overlapped the previous incarnation. All the sorrow had, bit by bit, been eaten away so that when he had regenerated all that had seemed to come out was this new, wide-smiling version. Even the clothes of the previous version had been darker, heavier. This new Doctor, he was all light and smiles, all laughter, rapid speech and wildness. And sometimes she missed the old Doctor. Sometimes she needed him more because of the kind of man he had been. He would have understood her sorrow more than this Doctor here.

But it didn't stop her from being in love with her current Doctor. Because most of the time, she needed this one more than the air she breathed. He was the start to the perfect morning, his smiles, his excitement, his awe with the universe. The start to her morning and the end to her day when he smiled softly over tea and covered her with a blanket when she fell asleep on him in mid-sentence. He was all of it and so much more.

And yet here, under the lights of the city, under the brilliant night sky, amid the laughter and the emotion, she found herself to be so alone. There was no one there to hold her hand then. No one to listen to her if she had something she needed to talk about. Her mother and Mickey, her alternate father, all of them in that lost world. Her Doctor, so close yet so far away because of the words of a single woman displaced in time.

There was no one to turn to.

And the words burned in her chest like a very familiar flame, threatening to devour her from the inside out in golden light.

* * *

When he reached her she sat alone under a streetlamp and on a cold park bench, her face weary and her hair falling down the sides of her face. The TARDIS had a lock on all the keys now, with the ability to pinpoint exactly where the owner was so long as that owner currently carried the key. At the moment there were only two keys with the tracking, his own and hers. It was a system he had installed during her time away in that other world with his own key. It was also one of the byproducts of finding her again. The TARDIS had locked onto her and with her, her key. Now the TARDIS would be able to pinpoint her wherever she happened to roam. Even another universe if he had the immense energy to power the search.

Finding her now, she seemed lost and abandoned, her head bowed. Coming up silently and stepping under the streetlight, he paused before her, his hands in his coat pockets.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked her quietly.

Her eyes slid in his direction if not meeting his stare, her head remaining bowed. And he watched her as she sucked on the inside of her cheeks, her silence telling. Watching her turn her head from him, realizing she refused to look at him, he hesitated beside the bench, content to merely gaze at her. And that's the way it would always be. He would never understand humans completely, would always find something to marvel over when it came to them. But he would always be drawn to this human, no matter what.

In the end, he had encountered her at a dark time in his life, had happened across her and on a whim had invited her along. And when she had declined initially, he had resolved to keep going. Until he had made the brilliant decision to come back and ask her again.

And he hadn't looked back since. They had needed each other then. She had been stuck in her world, one day the same as the other, never ending. And he had come from his own world of blackness and loss and had been blinded by her unknowing light. Even now, in the park, she shone brighter than the street lamp. A golden blur in the night. And he loved her for it. For being that signal in the darkness. Coming forward one more step to bring himself against her bent knees, he lifted a hand to her, palm down, all long fingers, and he waited.

Because she needed him just as he needed her and he was willing to wait.

Her eyes sidling toward his offered hand, they saddened upon catching, her expression pained. And turning her face from it to lift a hand to swipe at her eyes, she took his with her other hand, her grip on his loose.

"Just talk to me," he whispered to her, his hand making up for the limpness of hers and holding it with almost superhuman strength.

"About what?" she asked him and she huffed at herself suddenly as she wiped at one of her eyes once more. "I don't even know why I'm crying! I feel like a complete…" And she laughed miserably, gesturing in confusion, "idiot."

Turning a bit, he seated himself beside her and stretched out, crossing a leg over a knee, her hand captive in his as he held it in his lap. "About anything, Rose. Anything you want. Just…talk. Let it out. And I promise I'll listen."

Her face still turned away as she brushed tears from her cheek, she inhaled deeply and loudly, her head falling back as she breathed. And he watched her, his eyes drifting across her hair as she let her head angle back, catching the different colored strands as the light of the street lamp played across them. She was naturally dark-haired, not as blond as the locks that lifted in the breeze. He had even caught her hidden away in one of the TARDIS bathrooms, always a different one as if she hadn't wanted to be found, tin foil twisting her hair in the oddest shapes, reading a magazine while she had waited for the bleach to work. The one time he had caught her she had just about shrieked the TARDIS down at being caught unaware. He'd told himself no more sneaking up on her after that. But gazing now at her hair, a small smile curling the edges of his lips, he realized all her efforts merely endeared her more to him, his fingers tightening on hers.

The gesture made her finally bring her head to turn toward him, her eyes clearing, and she looked at him solemnly, even as he grinned at her widely, cheerfully. Hazel with flecks of green in the brown of her irises. Summer held in her gaze, he had always thought.

She was the golden summer day and he was the moonlit winter night, he supposed.

Staring at him, however, she found that she was momentarily at a loss for words. What was there to tell him, to ask him about? She couldn't very well ask him what had gone on between him and Martha. She wasn't even sure which Martha had been in the hospital earlier. And that was a strange thought by itself. How did one _not_ know which version of a person one was? It was mind-boggling, the things she had been introduced to since beginning her travels with him. And now here she was supposed to ask him what had been going on with that kiss between him and Martha and try to make him understand…what? That she was heartbroken over a tactic he had used to save the hospital and all the lives in it? That she was bitter he had used the same tactic with Martha? She didn't even have a right to feel dejected. Their relationship was nowhere near that level. He had always made it very clear about that specific boundary and crossing its delicate line. So what right did she have to feel bad about anything that had transpired earlier? Her eyes shifted down to his mouth, to his wonderful grin, and she saw her only out there, in that smile. She couldn't stop feeling miserable right then but she could blame it all on something else, something they had never spoken of, even to this day. Something she had wanted to speak to him about but had never found the right time to bring it up through all their traveling and all the running.

She remembered the first day of their meeting when he'd had blue eyes and another face. She remembered the day of their parting, in heat and golden light. And she remembered being introduced to this new face, not recognizing anything about it and needing the old one then more than she had ever needed anyone or anything. She had always looked for him, had always traveled with him and had always taken for granted the fact that he would be there. But she hadn't _seen_ what they'd had, at what they had now. Always looking but never seeing. And now, staring at his grin, she was finally _seeing_, not for the first time but for the first time in a long time maybe.

"But it isn't even the same smile," she murmured to him, gazing at his mouth blindly and still recalling it as if it had all just happened that day. "It's…not. It's not even there."

That once unfamiliar smile faltered and faded away at her words, his face confused.

She turned around again, hunching forward over her knees, her hand forgotten in his lap. "Never mind."

"No, no," he prodded, a frown crossing his forehead. "Tell me. I don't understand." And he tugged a bit on her hand, playing with it absentmindedly.

She rocked a bit, looking out into the shadows of the park, seeing and not seeing. His eyes also shifted in that direction, perhaps in hopes of seeing what it was she saw but he knew better. The only way he would ever see exactly what she saw was if they were connected mentally. And he had never asked that of her, had never felt it necessary to do that to her. For the mere fact that, usually, whatever she thought was what came out of her mouth. Except for tonight.

"It's just," she murmured hesitantly, "_there's_ just…so much you notice when you don't look. If you know how to do it," she mumbled, and she propped her elbow on her knee and dropped her chin into her palm. "Like, if you just kinda stare…at nothing…you can see a lot. So much more than if you're really looking, really trying."

He let his eyes slide sideways, head tilted, at her words. "Well yes, but that's biology. You are made to see everything even if it only registers subconsciously. It's a marvelous thing, the human body. All bodies. All designed to survive where they should. And if not then evolution comes into play-"

"That's…not what I meant," she interrupted quietly.

He came to a stop. "Oh."

Her shoulders fell wearily, her head lolling to the side, her eyes catching on his knee blindly. It was twitching slightly and she realized it was just one more thing about him. About this one. Always moving, energetically at that. Not a moment of downtime. Just move, move, move.

_"…then one time we had to hop! Do you remember? Hopping for our lives! Yeah? All that hopping! Remember hopping for your life? Yeah? Hop with the…no?"_

_"Can't you change back?"_

Remembering that exchange, in the TARDIS, staring at the new man that had stood before her, she dropped her head into her palm and closed her eyes tiredly. There was so much then, going through her head. So many thoughts, so many words. Words for him. For herself back then. For what she had felt then. For what she felt now. His previous incarnation had been a broken man, brooding. Somber. And now he seemed the complete opposite except when she caught him sitting in silence beside the console of the TARDIS. But he was the same man. Just not…physically. And she wondered…no, she _knew_. It must have hurt him when she had asked him to change back after regenerating. As if he hadn't just _died_ to save her. It had been such a thoughtless thing to ask of him. And even though he had never blamed her, had never even mentioned it to her, she wondered if he thought about it sometimes.

"I'm sorry," she said to him quietly, and she turned her head once more to look toward him over her hunched shoulder. And as he looked at her with a tenderly confused expression she continued, "for asking you to change back. After you regenerated. It was…stupid of me."

He shook his head at her, seeming at a loss for words for the first time ever in his long life, no doubt. The thought almost made her smile but she did not let it cross her face. Instead she tilted her head away once more, propping it along her hand.

"It's just…" she shrugged, faintly slurring as she spoke against her palm, "I didn't know. You never told me anything about it. Never told me it could happen. I just…wanted something familiar after everything that happened and not even that. I was just being a big…pain in the arse."

The Doctor hid the smile that threatened to break out over his face. Rubbing his palm over hers instead, he dropped his eyes to their hands, hers smaller than his, limp in his lap. He wanted to hold her hand forever now, after all the time he had spent looking for a way to get back to her.

Time. Always about time.

"And I knew what had happened, or I remembered it all later. Just started coming back to me in pieces. The Daleks. Satellite 5. The TARDIS. All of it. Sometimes in dreams. And sometimes I'd just be sittin' somewhere. With you. Eating chips. Reading a magazine, listening to you fix something with the TARDIS. And I'd get a flash of something. Words would just come to me. And I wrote them down sometimes. Bad Wolf."

His eyes slid toward her slowly, head bent.

"I mean… 's not me anymore. But still. It all happened. And then you died taking it out of me. And all I could ask was for you to change back. Because I didn't want you. I didn't want…your new face."

Silently, he lifted his head, his eyes trapped to the back of her head, his hearts suddenly hurting at being reminded of that.

"I felt…just lost. And betrayed, I guess. That you wouldn't tell me something like that would happen. Because I knew it was still you. It's still you now. But your face, the way you talk," she mumbled, her palm pressing into her cheek. "You were just a completely different person. And I wanted your old face back. Your daft old face."

He opened his mouth to speak and realized a moment later he hadn't the faintest idea what to say to her. Could he comfort her by saying it was all right that she had felt that way? Because it hurt him even now to think that for that short time, even if he had known it somewhere deep inside, she hadn't wanted him. _Him._ The old him, yes. But not the current him. Even if they were the same person with different mannerisms and appearances.

"It's normal," he said, sounding even to himself like he was talking bollocks. "It really is, to want something that you're comfortable with. I don't blame you for wanting me to change back. Something about humans, and lots of other types, they attach themselves to things that are familiar. You meet someone, you get to know someone physically and emotionally, you attach yourself. And if that person cuts their hair or dyes it, it's a change you have to get accustomed to but it's still someone you recognize. If that same person then gets a face lift, and trust me when I say that the face lift is a crude operation, much better by the turn of the century. The 22nd century, mind you. But anyway, it's just harder to see them the same way. For the simple fact that they're _not_ the same. Inside, yes. But outside, it's like…having to fall in love all over again," he finished, his voice dying off with an almost wistful exhalation.

She looked at him over her shoulder, hesitating as she eyed him for a long moment. "That whole time…you were going on about love?" she asked him curiously.

He was left with his mouth slightly open, very blank. Wasn't that what they had been talking about? Had it been..?

Rose quickly filled in for him. "No, it's just…I thought you were talking about, you know, best mates and stuff," she said.

He clamped his mouth shut. "Well, I was…I assumed that…" And he cocked his head, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck in confusion.

"Because I'm not!" she cut him off suddenly, snapping up straight. And she yanked her hand out of his, looking awkward and feeling it hovering over them. "I'm not…_in love_. I was just…confused! And hurt! That you…that you _changed…"_

"Right! Right! Yes, of course," he added just as quickly.

And he would have believed it of himself if his hand hadn't been feeling so very cold then without hers. Even thinking of it made him look down at his empty hand in his lap and he opened it and stretched it slightly as if testing it. Long slender fingers. He was taller now, leaner. Not as broken. Because of her. It was all because of her.

"You should've just…told me, is all," she ended then quietly. And she turned her head to look back out into the park, chin propped on her palm once more.

He agreed with her. He should have told her. Knowing all he did about humans and their attachments, he should have. "I guess I just thought…that it wouldn't happen so soon," he said quietly, his head dropping. "This is ten. We're only allowed thirteen forms. I was in my ninth form for less than a year. And usually it takes years. But going around everywhere with you…you're like a magnet, you are! You attract trouble all over!" And he smiled fully at her back, wanting her to smile with him, wanting to hear her laugh.

Instead she lowered her head, her hand dragging across her face silently.

"I didn't mean it like that," he breathed in a whisper a moment later, realizing what he had said a second too late. And he leaned forward, his crossed leg dropping numbly, his hand lifting to her back and then sliding up toward her neck to hover there apologetically. "Really, I didn't. That was…dim of me."

Suddenly standing, forcing his hand to fall away from her neck, she said quietly, "I just want to be alone, yeah? Just walk for a bit and-"

"Stop, come here," he said to her softly, lifting his face toward her but unable to meet her eyes as she turned her head away. His hand reached out and caught hers and he pulled on her gently, bringing her a bit closer to him and he parted his knees for her to stand between them. "I'll never understand humans, Rose," he said to her earnestly and she looked down at him as he took her other hand as well. "Try as I might, I'll never get them. There's always going to be something that will take me completely by surprise or will astound me. _You_ astound me, just standing here. Because you've been to another world and lived there. And we've done it before, been to other places, adapted to some of their ways if we were there for too long. But to live in a place that is exactly as your own yet isn't, with all the daily reminders of what's been left behind. You're strong, stronger than so many others I've happened across and it renders me speechless. Me!" And he tugged on her hands at the last word, wonder in his face, in his wide eyes.

Her lip trembled as she gazed at him, tears filling her eyes once more.

"And yes, Rose Tyler!" he exclaimed at her. "It _is_ like falling in love all over. It's overwhelming, like being in a daze while you walk down the street. To be completely in awe of someone, it's the same as being in love. I am amazed by you, every day. I always have been. Even the old me with the big ears-"

She laughed at that as tears fell down her face, her cheeks reddening.

"Even he, _I,_ saw it. Was overcome by it. And I think the most brilliant thing I ever did was go back for you. Even after you told me no, it was the best thing I've ever done. Sitting there in the TARDIS for a second, thinking to myself, _'How do I convince this girl to come with me?'_ And to think, _'Oh, the TARDIS travels in time!'_" And he shrugged as if he was holding the conversation right then and there with himself. It was endearing and beautiful of him, his expressions as they flitted across his face, his mouth as he spoke animatedly.

She lowered herself to her knees before him as he spoke. His dark eyes were wide, following her as she moved, her hands clasped by his on his lap as he rambled on and on.

"And it was because I needed someone," he said then, turning his face down to hers. "The same way you did. You can see it, _feel_ it. If you just sit and pay attention. You can see an entire person's life in the way they go about their day. Wake up, go about your errands, go to work. Go home. Sleep. And then start all over the next day. You can sum it all up as I did when I ended up at your flat that first day. How you live your life, your family life. How strong a person is. You can see it all," he said to her, his tone falling quiet, gazing at her.

"Yeah," she breathed, staring up at him, her eyes misty. "Just…all of it. When you're not looking, _even_ if you're not looking…you see it all. Just…if you don't look for it…"

"Oh, I wasn't looking for it," he said to her with a shake of his head, his wide eyes caught on her, a knowing smile curling the edges of his lips. "I wasn't looking for anything. But I saw you."

And with a weak smile she shook off his hands and flung her arms around his neck tightly, lifting to push herself against him. With a shaky sigh he enveloped her tightly and bent into her, face pressing down into her hair and neck, inhaling her scent and almost devastated by it. He would never get on without it, without her. Even if he were to catch her scent on the wind he would look for her. It was how it was. It was their story.

"We'll be ok, you and me. Right?" she asked him, murmuring her question against his neck. And it was a pleasant sensation, her breath across his skin.

"Yeah," he replied with a firm nod, his hands clutching her by the waist and back and just dragging her even closer, aware then that the feel of her against him was more than comfortable. It was good. It was right.

Turning her head to pull away a bit, she pressed her forehead to his, eyes shut tightly and he looked down at her, eyes floating over her closed eyelids, down her nose and to her mouth as she exhaled shakily through it. And for a single mindless moment he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, caught by hers.

Inhaling deeply, the gesture lifting her head closer to his, she whispered, "I should-" and she came to a stop as one of his hands left her waist and clutched at her jaw, thumb pressing to the corner of her mouth.

One hairsbreadth. One small distance to cross. And then…what? He hadn't the faintest clue.

He could smell her, so close. She smelled faintly of honey. And something floral. Gardenia, perhaps. With something else, something more. Something not Rose but that he would forever associate with her. He could almost taste her scent on his tongue, wanting to taste it physically. And even as he leaned that small distance, almost involuntarily, she was turning her head into his hand, parted mouth brushing against his fingers with the movement and the gesture was tender. As if she needed to feel his touch anywhere. Everywhere. Just have it close by. Have _him_ close by and always within reach so she would never go without.

And completely at a loss to what she had just evaded. He was left with his lips against her jaw, inhaling her scent, her figure between his knees and pressed to him as if she belonged there. Dragging his head back a small bit he said to her quietly, his voice raw, "Let's go somewhere else. Not here."

As the words left him he felt himself reel back in his head. What had he said _that_ for, in that way? To do _what?_

She didn't reply for a long moment, her eyes closed, her jaw resting against his fingers. With a small breath she murmured, "Let's get something to eat, yeah?"

He swallowed hazily. "Eat. Yes. Brilliant! _Chips!"_

And just like that, as she giggled and sat back on her haunches, whatever had been there the moment before was broken. But it was ok. His hand had followed her as she had leaned away and now, smiling at her, he felt her to be beautiful with his hand pressed to her face the way it was. Closing his hand and instead running his knuckles across her cheek, he allowed her to grasp his hand as she rose back to her feet and tugged on him.

"C'mon, you," she said, yanking on him as if he weighed a ton. "Let's get something in us. It's been a long day."

"That it has," he agreed, nodding, eyes widening as he stood and stretched. "But then again, that's nothing new, is it?"

She smiled up at him as he pushed his free hand into his coat pocket. "Not for us." And she turned and began to lead him, hand firmly clutched in his.

Exactly right.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Eleven: Dreaming of Wolves**

And she glowed, her figure giving off golden sparkles, shimmering dust rising from her amber skin.

"_Run,"_ the Bad Wolf commanded darkly.


	12. Dreaming of Wolves

**A/N - **Hey all, I know you guys are reading this, lol. Thanks for the reviews but ty to Kirsten as well for your review. I can't reply since it wasn't a signed review so this is the best you're getting from me. LOL!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – Dreaming of Wolves:**

That night, once more in the comfort of the TARDIS, she dreamt.

She had been running. She was always running in her dreams. This one was no different. If anything it was almost comforting, this endless running. As if nothing would ever be able to catch her to slow her down, to stop her. She would be this free always, she knew. If she could just keep running.

She was in some sort of concert hall. In the main room, overlooking the wide expanse of empty seats, she ran her eyes over the stage and the orchestra pit. All of it was empty. She didn't understand. She didn't care. She ran down the slight aisle, taking two steps at a time, stumbling and sliding. Still somehow managing to maintain her silence.

This was not the type of running she was used to. Nor the kind she liked.

She didn't know if she was running away from or toward something. She slid the last few carpeted steps and slipped slightly, her ankle taking the brunt of the misstep. But she barely felt it, barely felt the throbbing that flared. Coming to the end of the stairs she then darted for the small set of steps leading to the stage and she practically jumped those steps in one bound, landing clumsily onto the wooden stage. And as she did so, bright angry lights flared. She stood and spun, lifting her eyes directly into the light before throwing up her hand to block the spotlight.

The seats were filled. All of them. Every single one of them was suddenly filled. And every person filling those seats stared at her in silence, their faces masks of emotion. Fear contorted several of the faces, anger others. She didn't understand yet. She looked across the hall, every frozen face sending chills down her spine.

_"Rose."_

She twirled once more, searching the stage, her eyes darting up toward the rafters. She had heard his voice calling her. He always called her. A shadow moved above, the trailing of a long brown coat. Silent steps. Staring upward, she took off yet again, needing to keep his slippery figure in her sights. He had led her this far because she had been keeping an eye out for him. If she even blinked once she would lose him in the darkness of this place. She reached the other side of the stage and the orchestra pit was suddenly full of players as well, all with their faces distorted. The one that swiped at her pained ankle was caught in a silent scream of terror and it sent fear suddenly through her. Vaulting over the reaching hands, she landed to the side of the orchestra pit and wound about, disappearing behind the thick red curtains bordering the stage. And this darkness here was ever so complete, almost suffocating her.

_"Rose."_

The pain of her ankle lessened as his voice reached her and she slid out from under the heavy curtains into the backstage area. She didn't know this place. But all she had to do was keep running. It had worked for her up until then. She had no doubt that the running would get her through this as well.

Something waited for her at the finish line.

The area backstage was completely dark. She found herself stumbling over tables, odds and ends. Anything and everything that had ever been created in the existence of _man_ was tripping her in the darkness. But there was a light ahead of her as she crashed into something that tumbled to the floor and shattered. A sign hovered just ahead in the blackness, seeming disembodied. An EXIT sign tinted red, flickering. She ran for it blindly, seeing it come closer and a moment later she was below it and her body had slammed into a hard surface. The wall shifted, became a door, and she broke through it, flinging it open with a strength she only ever seemed to have in this strange surrealism. She turned her eyes away as a gray sky blinded her with its sudden light. The door slammed behind her, shut once more, and as she whirled she found the door to be gone. There was a firm wall behind her with the crude sketch of a door in it. But as she ran her fingers over the sketch she encountered nothing but brick wall.

A sound came from above and she spun to look up, searching the sky.

A figure was climbing from a fire escape into an open window.

She meant to cry out, to order him to stop but nothing made it through her lips. As if all air had been blocked away, strangled in her throat. Cursing inwardly, she found herself to be in an alley. Racing down a few steps she came upon the metal ladder of the fire escape and threw herself on it, quickly beginning to climb. He was just ahead of her, barely a few steps. She could catch up. Reaching the window he had disappeared through, she crouched and followed, finding herself in an empty flat. She was in the kitchen area and as she darted through the kitchen into a dark hallway she caught a small glimpse of a drawing taped to the surface of the freezer.

A little blond girl with a red hood. Leading a wolf through green, green grass. She slid to a halt in the hallway and spun back around but there was no picture there now.

_"Rose."_

Turning back around, a shadow moved ahead of her in the living room, afternoon sunlight flickering. She threw one last glance back toward the kitchen but the room was now dark and empty of furniture. She didn't have time to think of it. Coming to the end of the hallway she slid into the living room and found it to be her own living room in her mother's old flat. She halted, struck dumb at finding herself in such a familiar place. Everything was in its own place, exactly as it had been left when…when…

_"Run."_

The front door slammed shut and she peered down that small hallway, sensing the absence of a former presence she hadn't even been aware of in the room. Quickly she ran toward the front door and pulled it open, peering out.

Down at the end of her floor, rounding the corner toward the staircases, she caught the ends of a long brown coat. Pulling her door shut behind her she took off once more, racing down the path, her feet making loud slaps across the cement. And just as she reached the edge of the pathway and rounded the corner, looking into the sudden darkness, she came face to face with a woman. She seemed to be a woman, rather. She was beautiful, with thick blond hair and light amber eyes.

And she glowed, her figure giving off golden sparkles, shimmering dust rising from her amber skin.

_"Run,"_ the Bad Wolf commanded darkly.

* * *

Rose snapped awake with a gasp, flinging her music player aside. Her earphone was ripped from her ear at the sudden gesture and there was resistance from the other earphone as well but she didn't understand what had happened until she heard the smallest sound of surprise beside her. Spinning a bit on the surface she rested on, she found herself to be on a small couch, in a dimly lit room. She had been resting her head on the Doctor's lap and had inadvertently fallen asleep.

"What is it? What's happened? What's wrong?" the Doctor demanded immediately and rapidly, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as she sat up, disoriented. With his other hand he snapped a book shut and then set it aside on a small table to his other side.

She blinked, looking around, the room dark except for the small light of the table lamp beside the couch. They sat in what he called The Library. A large room hidden in the TARDIS, housing each and every book that he had ever read and enjoyed. Needless, the room was enormous. And somehow cozy. It was padded in soft plaid and muted colors, from overstuffed chairs to comfortable couches. The bookshelves themselves, along with a desk in the far back of the room was of a dark cherry wood, the floor of the same type but covered in multiple rugs. She was remembering vaguely how they had ended up in the room. He had wanted to read after the day they'd had and she had wanted nothing more than his company but not to be a bother to him at the same time. She had settled on listening to music while he had read. In the end she had still made a nuisance of herself, she knew very well. She had managed to make him listen to some of her favorite music on her player, hence the sharing of the earphones. He had been reluctant from the start, stating he would much rather read in silence but she had won him over and had fallen right to sleep on his lap, sharing her music. "I, um…" she whispered faintly, lifting her hand to her forehead as she looked around. All thought flew her mind, silence falling once more and they were left in the middle of it, the Doctor staring at her as she merely blinked in confusion.

Quietly, waiting for her, the Doctor leaned over toward the floor. He picked up her music player, rolling up her earphones and cradling it in his palm before sitting back to wait for her. She glanced at it momentarily, her hand sliding down from her head to hover over her mouth. "Um…I just had a crazy dream, is all," she replied finally from behind her palm.

The Doctor held out the music player to her sympathetically and as she lowered her hand from her mouth to take it from him, she found it to be trembling. She clasped her hand over her player and stared at it, forcing it to steady before he caught it.

But he never missed a thing.

With a small breath, the Doctor released her shoulder and placed his hand over hers, sandwiching her hand and her music player between his palms. "Ok, let me hear it," he stated in his no-nonsense voice.

She quickly shook her head, grimacing. "No, it's nothing-" she began.

"Rose," he said with a tiny bit of warning in his voice.

She looked at him, a quick dart of her eyes. His tone was the same voice that had been in her dream. Here, in the waking world, it was firm even as he had dragged out her name. In the dream he had whispered. The same way he had called to her, drawing her to Bad Wolf Bay what now seemed to be years ago. The mere thought of that name, that _title_, of Bad Wolf, caused shivers to race down her spine, her arms instantly breaking into gooseflesh.

He caught that as well. "Wow. What did that?" he asked her softly, his eyes shifting downward, his hands still clasping hers almost possessively. "The temperature hasn't changed a single degree since we've been in here so it must have been something you just thought. Something not good. Have to do with the dream?" And then his eyes were on her once more, almost penetrating her flesh.

She swallowed, feeling like a flower wilting under that gaze. "It was just a dream, Doctor," she mumbled and her words instantly sped up, jumbling together as she rambled on. "You know how dreams are. They're…weird and…wonderful sometimes and they make no sense, so really, I'm fine, it's nothing. We can just leave well enough alone," she said before coming to a dead and very firm end.

The Doctor stared at her for a long silent moment, his top hand becoming a bit more firm as she realized she couldn't make her own hand stop trembling. "Yeah…" he drawled, throwing his head back in thought. "That's not going to work with me this time, I'm afraid. I may let a few things slide with you, Rose Tyler, but the simple fact that your hand is trembling in mine leads me to believe you're _not_ fine and I _am_ rather intrigued by dreams. Yours especially. So out with it."

She gazed at him, reluctance shining in her dark eyes.

"Please." He pouted. Quite literally, before her very eyes, he pouted.

Her eyes darted down to his mouth, her expression and will power failing her. "Oh for goodness sake…" she sighed, exhaling wearily. "Fine, you…big baby." And she glared at him as a winning smile erased his pout, his eyes twinkling in a fight well won. "But it really is nothing, just so you know."

The Doctor cheerfully released her hand for her to retrieve her music player and as she shifted to sit on her rear a bit more comfortably, he found himself mirroring her. Dragging her legs in to cross them and then embrace them, she dropped her music player to the side of her, rolling the earphones up into a small ball. "Um, I don't remember…falling asleep," she began with a small sigh, casting a glance his way. He also had dragged his legs in, crossing them before him on the couch and somehow managing to fit his long legs on the cushion.

"You fell asleep rather quickly," he let he know, his hands falling to clasp his shins comfortably.

"Mmm," she nodded. "Music does that to me," she revealed. She leaned her head back, inhaling deeply. "It was…a weird dream. I barely remember it, really. But I remember…running." And she pursed her lips at the memory, the fear that had coursed through her as she had raced about from one place to another, from light to darkness and back again.

"Running is good," the Doctor said with a small smirk, his eyes hooded.

She glanced at him. "Yeah…not this kind of running. I mean…I remember thinking the same thing, about the running. Like nothing would ever hurt me or get to me if I just kept running…I was chasing after you, in fact," she said with dawning realization, her hand reaching to come down on his wrist. "Yeah. I remember that. I kept seeing…bits of you. From behind. Always turning a corner. Or disappearing."

"Always chasing after me? Even in dreams?" The Doctor asked her, interest piqued. And he wagged his eyebrows at her.

She tossed him a withering look. "Like you would even know what to do with me," she stated rather haughtily. And as he opened his mouth in response, a finger coming up to stress whatever point he had been about to make, she merely rambled right on over him. _"Anyway._"

He lowered the finger and motioned for her to continue magnanimously.

With a small inward smile she picked up where she had left off. "I was in this big hall at first. Like with a stage and big red curtains. And an orchestra right in front of the stage. But in the beginning I was alone. And I ran down the stairs to the stage and when I turned around the place was suddenly packed with people. And their faces…" She winced, her hand rising to hover over her face, her fingers clawed. "They looked like they wore masks. And all the masks were scared. Of like a scared expression, I mean."

The Doctor's glee had faded away and was now replaced with solemn blankness, an eyebrow arched in silence.

"They started to reach for me so I just…ran. I just kept running. And I caught a glimpse of you so I followed you out like a back door. And when I got out the back you had just climbed up a fire escape and into someone's window. I mean, it was _my_ window in the end. But the kitchen wasn't my mom's kitchen. But once I got to the living room it was _my_ living room. And you had just left. So I went running after you, out my front door and when I got to the end of the hallway outside…she was there." Rose came to a sudden stop, her breath leaving her then in a silent whoosh.

"Who was there..?" he asked her quietly.

She looked at him for a long moment, seeing herself reflected in his eyes. _"Her,"_ she repeated softly, eyes darting sideways and away from his penetrating stare for a moment but then quickly shifting back to look at him. "The Bad Wolf."

The Doctor straightened a bit, realization crossing his face. "I see…" he murmured haltingly. And then he frowned slightly. "And _how_ do you know what the Bad Wolf looks like?" he asked her.

She blinked at him. "Well…she's _me_…" she said, the slight shadow of a grimace beginning to form on her face. "I mean…isn't she? Doesn't she? Look like…me?"

The Doctor bowed his head, merely staring at her.

She returned the stare. "Doctor?" she asked again.

His eyes lowered to her hands clasping her own shins tightly. Her knuckles were white from the effort but she had stopped trembling. "The Bad Wolf…" he murmured slowly, searching for words to describe her.

"It was me," she said again. "The Bad Wolf was me. And the person, the girl in my dream, she was me too. But beautiful. Like…_really_ just…beautiful. And she glowed with all these sparkles all around. And her voice…"

"Beautiful?" he supplied for her, almost cheekily, his grin widening once more.

She hesitated in response, her lips parting. "Terrible," she whispered.

As the Doctor recoiled at her answer she merely bowed her head, turning her face from him. She looked down at her fingers as she released her legs and merely let her hands fall into her lap limply, silently. The Bad Wolf in her dream. She had begun to remember, not long after everything that had happened on Satellite 5, about the Bad Wolf. She remembered how hot the entity had been inside her, the heart of the TARDIS. Hot enough to burn, to sear her flesh from her bones. But at the same time, the heart of the TARDIS had been at her command, had brought to life any wish she had desired. And in the beginning the heat of the heart had cradled her, had comforted her. Only in the end had it become too much to bear. To see the woman's face, _her_ face, glowing like that with the power of the TARDIS behind it…

She had been afraid.

She swallowed, her eyes darting in the direction of the Doctor slightly as he settled once more. "Was she…was _I_…" she whispered painfully, "Was that what I looked like?"

The Doctor didn't answer. And she understood that he didn't know what she had seen in her dream. But that wasn't the reason he hadn't answered her. He hadn't answered her because he hadn't known what to say to her. This time she did look at him, her eyebrows drawing up almost fearfully.

"Was I that…horrible?" she asked him faintly.

His lips parted, his head shaking wordlessly, and he reached out, taking one of her hands in his. "No," he replied quickly. And then he paused in hesitation, his head cocking slightly. "Well, yes, actually. But it wasn't your fault, how you looked. The heart of the TARDIS changed you for the amount of time it was inside you. It changed _me_ permanently! I mean, this is what I became because of…of…"

Rose looked miserable.

He sighed. "My point is, yes. The Bad Wolf was a beautiful, _terrible_ creature. But the motivations behind her were…were…they were good. They were _your_ motivations! You did it all because you wanted to save me. And you did!" His hand squeezed hers, his eyes imploring her to understand. "The Bad Wolf was never an evil being, Rose. Not with you at the helm, as they say. You have a pure heart. You are a _good_ person. The Bad Wolf would only have done good-"

"She was…evil," Rose said softly, ever so faintly. "In my dream. She was evil. I could feel it. And she told me to run."

"It was a dream," the Doctor said then firmly. And his tone cut her off, his free hand taking hold of her other hand as well and clasping it tightly. "Nothing more. Just a dream. One that's over and done with."

She nodded at him, at his words.

"Besides," he said, his tone suddenly cheerful once more, "dreams can't be taken at face value. Rarely do they depict what the problem actually is. They usually just disguise the true meaning in…surreal gibberish. Images and sounds that have nothing to do with the literal meaning."

Rose nodded once more, simply agreeing with everything he rambled on about. He would know, of course. But everything about the dream, the _nightmare_, had been so real and so frightening.

She was being silly. She really was.

With a small tug to her hand the Doctor turned and let his legs unwind and drop to the floor once more. "You were asleep for over an hour only. I think it's bedtime for you, Rose Tyler."

She came to a sudden stop, fighting his pull. "I…don't want to go back to sleep just yet," she whispered, dragging him back once more. "Can I just…sit here with you for a bit? Listen to some music?" And she added quickly, "I promise I won't make you listen to music with me."

The Doctor threw her a sardonic look.

"I promise," she murmured.

After a moment he said, "I have a better idea. Let's go, I'll make us some tea. We'll keep each other company until you start getting tired. Then it'll be to bed with you. Deal?" And he released her hand only to hold it out toward her once more, this time waiting for her to agree to his terms.

She took it after another silent second and shook it firmly. "Deal."

* * *

**Next Chapter - Chapter Twelve: The Second Visit (Donna Noble Style)**

Donna stared through the glass doors, scooting sideways to allow another person to exit, never once tearing her eyes from the pair. She didn't know that man, that version of the Doctor. The man who threw his head back and laughed loudly, nodding at whatever the blond girl said to him. Donna didn't know him _at all_. She recognized the dark hair and the lean frame clothed in his usual suit. But that man there, walking with Rose Tyler, was a complete stranger. She knew only of her own Doctor, with the circles under his eyes and the pain in their depths. The Doctor she knew, he was a mere shadow of this man in the store. Nothing more.


	13. The Second Visit Donna Noble Style

**Chapter Twelve – The Second Visit (Donna Noble Style):**

"So what you're telling me then," she began, fighting the urge to roll her eyes straight through to the back of her head, "is you want _me_ to talk to her. Because you think _I_ can convince Little Miss Muffet to…what?" And she cocked her head at him as they rounded the console. "To bugger off and find her own way back to her own little universe?"

He bowed his head at her words, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose delicately. He would not kill her. He would not kill her. It was against his moral code. He would not kill her.

_I will not kill her._

"Or should I just tell her, _'Hi. I'm Donna. I have a message from the Doctor. He wants you to hightail it on out of here because you're tearing two realities apart.'_ Is that better?" she asked him, pursing her lips at him.

"It's a start," he managed to make out through a wince, still clutching his nose.

"What, gotta sneeze or something? Do Martians sneeze?" she asked him sardonically. And she let her hands slip from her hips where she'd had them for the last half hour. "I mean…what do I say to her, really? This is her! _Your_ her!"

_"Your her?"_ he questioned her, a frowning look of disbelief flitting across his face as his hand dropped away. "Really, Donna. Proper English if you will!"

"You know what I'm trying to say!" she shouted at him impatiently. "You spend all your time going on about her and now you're trying to undo it all! Isn't there a way? Some other way to-"

"There is no other way," he cut her off and his tone was firm. "There is no other way. I can't go myself. Which leaves you. And you can be very persuasive which is why I'm leaving it to you."

"Can't you send that other bloke, your friend? What was his name? Captain Jack!" she gestured at him with an index finger. "Can't you send him instead? They knew each other. And I'm sure he can be persuasive too, what with that…wonderful mouth of his…"

The look he sent her was enough to destroy Daleks should they have felt the need to invade that very moment.

"Oi. Freezer in here suddenly," she murmured with a sideways look and a pout to her mouth. Wordless for a long moment, running her fingers along the console of the TARDIS as it flared slightly, they stood in tense silence. His shoulders were rigid and had been for a while now. And when she looked at him these days, since having known him the first time they had encountered each other, he had thinned down even more. "Don't you eat?" she suddenly demanded.

He did a double take. "What?"

Motioning at him and at a loss for words for a second, she stuttered, "You look terrible. Too thin, thinner than before. And you need a shave. And a fat burger. And chips. Lots of chips. Do all Martians lose weight as fast as you do?"

Closing his eyes again and counting to ten, he said slowly and stiffly, "Once more, I'm not from Mars."

She glared at him. "I didn't say you were," she snapped at him.

"You just called me a Martian, Donna! Where else are Martians from?"

She waved it away impatiently. "I call all aliens Martians!"

"Really? How many do you know?" he demanded. And this time he really did clamp down and break off into silence. He was tired. Physically and emotionally tired. Even mentally tired. Exhausted, in fact. So many changes, so many ripples in the timeline that needed to be mended. He had been a fool. From the start, he had just been foolish.

But he had wanted it to be true, to be possible. With both of his broken hearts.

Donna was silent at his side once more, her expression now saddening as she merely looked at him. "I'll go," she said then, quietly. And as he lifted his head to look at her, his face pinched, she said once more, "I'll go and I'll talk to her. I'll make sure she gets it. I mean, she's a smart girl, isn't she?"

"Brilliant," he remarked instantly, quietly.

Donna smiled faintly at that. "'Course she is," she murmured. And she pulled away, her hands trailing across the console as she rounded it slowly. "So am I dressed for the weather? What month will it be out there?"

With a small breath, inhaling almost feebly, he straightened once more, at least to give off the impression that he was all right. Because he was always all right, she knew. "It's March. End of. You'll be fine. Or maybe a light jacket. Nah. You'll be fine." And he set the coordinates, his hands expertly darting across the controls.

Donna nodded, coming to a stop directly opposite him on the other side of the console. "And are you sure you want me to tell her exactly like that?" she asked, leaning over to look at him around the blue core of the TARDIS. "Don't want me to tell her…well…anything about you? How you're doing?"

"Nothing about me," he stated flatly, refusing to lift his head.

She gazed at him as he avoided her eyes and continued to direct the TARDIS. "All right then." And she waited as he set the TARDIS down with his usual finesse. A few moments later the phone box gave a shudder and then jarred roughly, sending her to grasp the console for balance. He seemed utterly undisturbed by the landing, flicking several switches and then slowing to stand silently. Glancing at him as he continued to avoid her eyes she nodded. "Ok. That's my cue then. Be back soon."

As she twirled to float toward the door he called to her. "Donna-"

She turned back around, pausing on the ramp leading toward the doors of the TARDIS.

He was hesitant, one hand on the console, the other shoved into the pocket of his blue suit pants. "Tell her…" he murmured slowly, thoughtfully. "Tell her…"

Donna merely smiled at that, as he failed in words. First time for everything then. "She knows," she offered him instead softly. And as he looked at her she waved the fingers of her left hand at him in goodbye and proceeded down the ramp then out the doors of the TARDIS.

* * *

Rose Tyler had been found. Exactly where he had said she would be. Shopping in the department stores of the city, poking her head into this store for shoes and that store for jeans. All in all, Rose Tyler was just like every other young woman in the history of the world.

With a credit card that could probably power businesses for years to come with the amount stored on it.

The only problem once she was found that day was that her Doctor was with her. Like the dutiful male friend who had been duped into going along a shopping spree, the Doctor was at her side as she modeled shirts over herself, flashing jeans at him for his opinion. And even from where she hid behind a front column of the department store, she could tell the Doctor was as useless as every other male on the planet. He shrugged and scratched at the back of his head as she waved a skirt at him, as she showed him a red boot on one foot and a white trainer on the other. And from where she stood she could clearly read the word, _"Anything?"_ on Rose Tyler's lips as she shrugged at the Doctor. He in turn shrugged right back and then motioned to a multi-colored scarf on display not too far from where they stood.

Donna straightened, coming to a slight stop. She had seen that scarf hidden away in a closet on the TARDIS not too long ago. After complaining about having no closet space for herself she had gone looking and had found it.

Even now the thing was hideous.

Rose glanced over at the scarf, stared, and then emphatically shook her head.

Donna knew exactly how that conversation had just gone. She waited, peeking around the column toward the department store window and caught another glimpse of Rose just as the blond girl looked toward her in exasperation. Immediately Donna pulled back and flattened herself to the other side of the column, hiding and grimacing. "Oh…damn," she cursed under her breath, her heart suddenly speeding up. Had Rose seen her? Did it really matter? Rose Tyler had no idea who Donna Noble was, nor what she looked like. Why was she even hiding? Pursing her lips, Donna slid once more along the column and peeked around it, lifting her gaze back toward the spot where Rose had just been with her Doctor.

They were walking off together, Rose returning items to their shelves and racks as they went.

Sighing inwardly Donna pulled away from the column, heading toward the doors of the department store. She was going to have to physically go in if she wanted to keep Rose Tyler in her sights to finally confront her. Coming to the glass doors she peered in, stepping aside with a look of impatience as a customer departed. Toward the back she caught sight of Rose as she skipped a step and then reached back for the Doctor's arm, winding her own through it and beaming up at him.

Her heart came to a grinding halt.

Gesturing widely, maniacally almost, the Doctor motioned about, speaking rapidly and animatedly. And Rose burst into adorable laughter, hopping excitedly at his side.

Donna stared through the glass doors, scooting sideways to allow another person to exit, never once tearing her eyes from the pair. She didn't know that man, that version of the Doctor. The man who threw his head back and laughed loudly, nodding at whatever the blond girl said to him. Donna didn't know him _at all_. She recognized the dark hair and the lean frame clothed in his usual suit. But that man there, walking with Rose Tyler, was a complete stranger. She knew only of her own Doctor, with the circles under his eyes and the pain in their depths. The Doctor she knew, he was a mere shadow of this man in the store. Nothing more.

Rose glanced back toward the doors in search of something, perhaps more clothes to try, and they met eyes once more. Coming to a sudden stop, Rose stared at her and Donna quickly ducked sideways, out of sight.

"Oh, she must've seen that…" she murmured to herself with a wince as she leaned against the wall of the convenience store next door to the department store.

* * *

"Is that…did you see that?" Rose asked the Doctor, coming to a sudden stop as she glanced over her shoulder once more. She tugged him back to her side as he went to continue on.

"See what?" he asked, pausing and glancing in the same direction she looked.

"That…woman," Rose replied slowly and she took a step, dragging the Doctor behind her absentmindedly. "With the ginger hair. She was…" She took a few more steps, taking the Doctor with her as he also looked off the way she pointed.

"Ginger? Really?" A small bit of excitement entered his tone before falling away in dismay. "I didn't see anyone…"

Rose frowned faintly, pausing. "I think…" she murmured haltingly. And after another moment she shrugged it off. "Losing it. I have to be. I'm losing it, Doctor."

"Don't be dramatic, Rose. You lost it a long time ago," he comforted her and he took her hand in his and began to lead her further into the department store, motioning. "Maybe we'll find something more fitting for you in that direction?"

"You think? You weren't much help with the shoes…"

The Doctor threw her a wicked glance. "It's because I don't understand the point of quite so many versions of the same boot in all those colors. All you need are a good set of trainers for the run. See? For example-" And he began to motion to his own pale trainers.

"Those have no traction!" Rose argued, dragging him along once more just as he had lifted a foot to show her. He ended up stomping after her rather ungracefully as she continued on. "Have you tried running in those through dusty terrain? It's horrible! Oh, what am I talking about, of course you have. You were right there with me. But really. Dust and dirt? Like that one planet we went to, with all the sand and those birds that tried to peck at my glitter makeup, remember?"

"I warned you against anything shiny," he reprimanded her instantly, catching his footing once more as she led him on. "What did I say? '_Rose, don't wear anything shimmery or sparkly or what have you-'"_

"Because of the birds, you said," she cut him off. "Birds. That's how you put it. Birds. I was expecting…you know, tiny chirping birds! Not man-eating, ravenous monsters the size of ostriches!" She huffed at him, throwing him a look as a wistful smile curled his lips at the memory. She rolled her eyes at that. "So, I need real trainers. Or boots. And what's so bad about red boots?"

He sighed, his hands winding into his pockets as she released them to curl her arm through his instead. "There's nothing _wrong_ with them, Rose. But we're going to Caradhas Minor next. Do you even know what's there?"

"No, but I bet you're going to tell me," she grumbled in a snarky tone.

"The Caradhans don't believe in red," he said to her in disbelief at the fact that she didn't already know. "In fact, the color red is downright insulting to them. Which means that sweater of yours stays behind. You know the one. Oh, and not just _red-_red but all variations of red. No pink. No maroon-purples. Even certain browns are a bad idea. Trust me, Rose," he said to her, his figure suddenly straightening as he took on the tone that stated he was indeed a Time Lord and _just _so impressive.

Rose walked in quiet hesitation for a long moment, chewing on her bottom lip, her arm curled through his. "How about reddish orange-"

"Rose."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" she giggled at him, shaking him teasingly. "Ok, fine. I get it. No red. Got it."

Looking down at her, the corners of his lips turning up once more in a small smile, his eyes met hers for a small moment. And then the smile was there, fully.

* * *

Donna crouched along the sales counter in the perfume section, peering around the edge, Rose and the Doctor in her sights. She'd been shadowing them for what felt like hours now. She had never known the Doctor to have this much patience, especially in any human matters. He had none when it came to her personally anyway. But Rose seemed to be a different story, one all her own. They were currently a mere ten feet from where she hid, her breath practically strangling in her throat as she strained to hear what they were saying. They had been bantering for a while now and if this was the way they were together, it was obvious then why the Doctor was now broken. Never had she seen him to have so much life in him, so much manic energy and so much affection. Yes, he had taken her own hand numerous times, had smiled with her, laughed with her. But never had the shadow lifted from his face for long and quite so brilliantly. Never had she seen his eyes shimmer the way they did now. Even his voice jumped an octave higher in pure glee at their repartee. This Doctor was wittier, happier and ever the _flirt_. Donna herself couldn't believe it.

"What do you say to going out later tonight? Perhaps tomorrow?" the Doctor was saying then, his hands in his coat pockets as Rose dug through a display of socks. "I know just the place. Caradhas Minor can wait."

"Out?" Rose questioned, her voice muffled. As Donna peeked around the edge of the counter she caught a glimpse of Rose bent over into the small bin of socks, tossing pairs about in a concentrated search. A moment later she popped up with a pink pair. Then a second after that she frowned. "Oh, right. No pink either," she mumbled as the Doctor sent her what seemed to be a small glare and she tossed the pair right back in. "Out where?"

"Well…" the Doctor said with a scrunch to his eyes. "This time of year there's a small festival in the Rexan System, on the leisure planet Gamorra. Wonderful colors, all sorts of people and alien species visit the planet during this time. I myself haven't been there in quite a bit but I doubt much has changed-"

Donna hesitated as she listened to their conversation. He had taken her there not too long ago, that leisure planet he had just mentioned to Rose. For the simple reason that the last time he had gone, when Rose has been his companion, things had not gone well. He had taken Donna, perhaps to make a better memory of the place. Which meant that, currently, the future was on its way to being followed exactly as predicted.

She was here to try and fix that.

"What's this festival about?" Rose asked, digging into the socks once more absentmindedly.

Donna turned back again, pressing her back to the side of the department sales counter and glanced up at abruptly seeing the security guard waiting directly beside her. She forced a slow, awkward smile at him, quite aware of how the situation suddenly looked. "Hi."

"Centuries ago the Gamorran citizens, all colorblind, part of their biology, made peace with the Rexans. Yes, the Rexan System is named after the planet Rexa which is the biggest planet in their system."

"Um-hmm."

"Anyway, the Rexan people introduced the Gamorrans to-"

"Wait, Gomorrah?" Rose popped back up once more, a frown wrinkling her nose. "Like…from Sodom and Gomorrah?"

The Doctor weighed the comparison with a small narrowing of an eye. "Sounds like but isn't," the Doctor replied and he eyed a pair of white socks in her hand critically.

"It's not red!" Rose protested at the look.

The Doctor continued on as she sent him a withering glare. "Sodom and Gomorrah have nothing to do with Gamorra for the mere fact that Gamorra the Planet predates…just about all scripture. If anything, the entire Gomorrah issue could even be a rip off of Gamorra-"

"Gomorrah or Gammora?" Rose questioned him in confusion.

"What?" the Doctor asked with a halting pause.

"What?" she asked him right back, now fully bewildered.

"Will you let me finish?' the Doctor demanded.

"Not if I don't get what you're saying, no!" Rose argued right back and they settled into a small silence, eyeing each other as if waiting for the other to begin speaking once more.

Donna held up a finger at the security guard as he waited for her to stand up from the floor. "I just need a minute," she stage-whispered and she motioned toward the Doctor and Rose with a flick of her thumb and a small wink.

The security guard straightened to his full height silently, a dark look crossing his face.

In a sign of peace, hands held up, the Doctor began once more. "Let's forget all about the Gomorrah of scripture and focus on Gamorra the planet." And he waited as Rose reluctantly turned back to the bin of socks and dug through once more. "The Gamorran people, colorblind as they are, were gifted with fabrics and materials of vibrant color by the Rexans. While the Gamorrans couldn't tell the actual color of the fabrics, they could tell there was a difference in hues and texture. As such, the anniversary of that peace is celebrated in a festival that lasts eight earth days. I think it began yesterday. I think we should go. That and it _is_ a leisure planet and I think you and I could use some leisure time."

Rose straightened once more, her eyes on a pair of socks. "Sounds good. What are their clothes like? Should I cover up, wear jeans? Dress up? I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb." And she threw him a cheeky look. "Can I wear red there?"

The Doctor didn't take the bait. "Actually, you'll find colors there that you never even knew existed! Oh, I should have taken you there much sooner! You'd love it! And it doesn't matter what you wear or what you look like. Species-wise, I mean. Literally, people from all over come to the festival. They've seen humans before. The Gamorrans are quite accommodating."

Rose nodded. "Ok, great. Then I guess I should be shopping for something pretty to wear." She paused. "Not that you'd be much help in that department. You're rubbish when it comes to women's clothing."

The Doctor gestured to his own tall male form in response to that, the corner of his lip curling.

"Come on then," Rose said and she tossed the pairs of socks about for one last look. "Let's go to the evening wear department and check out their selection." And she wound her arm through his once more, pausing to pick at his coat. "You dressing up?"

The Doctor glanced down at himself critically as they wandered away, his voice trailing off. "Isn't this suitable?"

Donna watched them walk off for a bit of a moment and then jumped to her feet. "Great then. Thanks for keeping my cover," she said to the security guard with a small wink. "Gotta keep tailing them, can't let them out of my sight. He'd have my hide," she smiled. And then she frowned as the security guard took a step closer. "What?"

"Come with me, ma'am," the security guard said briskly and without another word he wrapped a hand around her arm and began to pull her off.

"Oi!"

* * *

She had been held, questioned for half an hour and then finally released by the security department of the store. And by the end of it she had told them exactly what they were and where they could shove their misplaced manners.

"And another thing!" she shouted as she was shoved out of the security office, the door slamming in her face. She cracked a fist against the door, raging. "Don't think I won't complain! If there's one thing I'm good at, it's complaining! I'll have you tossed out on your arse! And then I'll sue the pants off you, you daft-"

She broke off as she realized she was causing a scene. Pursing her lips and straightening her shirt, she composed herself just enough to look about and catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall in the hallway. She'd been sequestered for just over half an hour. She felt anxiety flood her stomach icily. What if Rose and the Doctor had gone? Then what? Did her own Doctor know what had happened? She wrung her hands for a moment, pacing back and forth on her heels before finally darting down the hallway back toward the main lobby of the department store. Evening wear, Rose had said. She was a typical girl. Perhaps she was still there shopping? She could only hope to catch up to her again.

Running as fast as she could on her blunt heels she raced up the escalator and looked about as she came out on the second floor. This was the men's department. She came upon the directory of the store and scanned it quickly. Evening wear was on the fourth floor. Practically tripping up the escalator once more she sped right past the third floor before riding up the fourth.

And waiting right by the escalator on the fourth floor, hands in his coat pockets, stood the Doctor.

She stumbled to a stop before him, merely staring at him.

He stared right back as he realized she was looking at him. "Hello."

Donna studied him intently. "Which one are you?" she demanded, running her eyes up and down his frame quizzically.

The Doctor blinked. "Beg your pardon?"

He was wearing the same suit as Rose's Doctor. "Never mind all that. Gotta run-"

"Ginger!" the Doctor crowed, pointing a finger at her hair.

Donna glared at him. "So, you've always been like that then," she said with a withering look. "It's not such a big deal, being ginger. Brings too much attention. Gotta go now, really. Lovely to meet you. And eat something for God's sake." And with that she darted past him into the evening wear department in search of Rose.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirteen: Black and Blue**

She knew why Donna had told her to get the blue dress. Because in her future she had owned _this_ dress. Donna had said it herself, that she had seen the dress in one of her closets. That the Doctor had liked the dress very much.

"There's…no way around it, is there?" Rose whispered faintly, her eyes caught on the dress.


	14. Black and Blue

**A/N: **Hey readers, I managed to upload the first arc of songs to the Echoes of Summer soundtrack if you guys want to download and try it out. It's over at my website under the Soundtracks tab and then under Echoes of Summer, about halfway down the page. It's a mediafire file. The link to my webpage is in my profile. Try it, hopefully you'll like some of the songs I used. :)

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen – Black and Blue: **

When she found Rose the girl was poking into a rack of slim black dresses. Coming up behind her, Donna hesitated for a long moment, watching her as she held up one of the dresses to her own frame. "Don't get that one," she said to her and Rose turned quickly in surprise.

Donna managed a small smile for her awkwardly.

Rose blinked, the dress forgotten in her hands. "You're…that woman. Have you been following me?" And as Donna paused in response she added, "You're not very good at it. Trying to be inconspicuous and all."

Donna smiled fully then, her hands clasping behind her. "Yeah. It's…my first time," she replied ruefully. And she took a step closer to Rose, reaching for the black dress in her hand and taking it. "Familiar, this one. I've seen it. In the closets. Your closets."

Rose stilled, her hands curling in as the dress was taken from her. "My closets?"

Donna nodded, her voice quieting. "On the TARDIS. Your wardrobe got to be too much. And of course it would have, all those places you travel to, all the clothes you bring back. You had to expand to three closets…" She broke off, gazing at the dress. "He liked this one. Very much."

Rose stood in stunned silence for a long moment, watching the woman with the ginger hair as she ran her eyes over the dress with a small, wistful smile. And then sense returned, realization with it. "You're from…my future?"

Donna merely glanced at her before returning her eyes to the dress. And then, wordlessly, she hung the dress back up on the rack, running her palm down its length for a moment.

Rose swallowed. "Why…why shouldn't I get the dress? If he likes it?" she asked and she clamped her mouth shut as the question came out. What did it matter if he liked it? And it was obvious who _he_ was. But _she_ liked it too. She thought she'd look wonderful in it. She turned to look at the dress once more.

"Because you're not supposed to care whether he likes it," the woman replied. And she sighed faintly. "I'm Donna, by the way. Donna Noble."

Rose nodded slowly, realizing for a moment that the entire situation had become surreal in the blink of an eye. "Hi, Donna. I'm Rose."

"Yeah." Donna nodded quietly as well. "I know."

Rose bowed her head. "'Course you do," she murmured. And with a small purse of her lips, her eyes trailing over the dress, she sighed softly. "So…if not this dress, then which?"

Donna glanced around at her question. Then, lifting her hand, she motioned widely. "Take your pick. Anyone works just as well." And her eyes caught on a flattering blue one. "That one's nice. Brings out the blond," she said with a small shrug. She paused for a second, examining the dress blankly. "Saw your Doctor. By the escalators."

Rose nodded, motioning. "Yeah. Told him to wait for me. Wanted to do some shopping by myself, pick out something nice." Swallowing once more, feeling her heart slowly begin to pick up speed, she floated over to the rack and lifted a hand to the dress, trailing a finger across the material. It really was lovely. She would get this one for the festival. "So, Donna," she began, hoping she sounded nonchalant. "What brings you to my time?"

The redhead followed her silently, her eyes catching on a dress clinging to a rack on her right. "Oh, you know. The usual. Trying to fix it. It's the only reason he would ever send anyone back." She paused, letting her sentence die but knowing that Rose Tyler would listen to every word she spoke.

"Fix it?" Rose asked tremulously though she attempted to sound casual.

"Yeah," Donna replied. "He's a great big idiot, the Doctor. But…" And she paused, sweeping her hand over a shimmering dress blankly. "He's also got a great big heart, that one. Two of them, in fact." She threw the dress a look that was actually aimed at the Doctor had he been present. "Always trying to make things right by everyone."

Rose bowed her head, her back to Donna.

"Anyway. My point is…the reason I'm here is that…he's trying to fix things. For you. For us. All of us," Donna explained. "He doesn't…know how yet. There's one solution that he has that he…doesn't want to take-"

"Is he all right?' Rose asked and she turned then to look at Donna, her face pale. "I mean…you make it seem like…is he all right?"

"He's fine," Donna nodded, throwing her a strained smile. "Bit thin. Keep trying to get him to eat. But I'm not his mum. And he's old enough to literally be called my ancestor so…" she shrugged.

Rose smiled weakly. "Yeah."

Donna paused once more then, hesitant. And finally, working up the nerve, she spun toward Rose. "Look…Rose. Like I said, reason I'm here. The Doctor…" she broke off, frowning as she looked for the right words. There were things that she could say and other things she couldn't. Mostly because she just didn't want to scare Rose. Looking at her now, she couldn't believe what was in store for them all. Not when it was so completely obvious how much she felt for and worried over the Doctor.

She came to a stop, her heart feeling as if it would break. Wasn't that just the problem in the end though?

Rose gazed at her, her face pinched.

She looked so young. So…innocent. "There's something coming," Donna said then, seeing Rose's face numbly and not recognizing the girl there at the same time. Not in that way. "And the Doctor…he's trying to fix it. Everything that happens…I can't tell you what to do. What _not_ to do. Because anything you do could potentially become what you would have done anyway. Does that make sense?"

Rose glanced sideways and in her eyes, suddenly, there were tears there. "No," she said with a pained laugh, shaking her head. But a moment later she lifted fingers to her eyes to swipe away the tears. "None of it ever makes sense."

Donna felt her eyebrows draw in. "Right, I know," she said soothingly. And she took a step closer, catching the flicker in Rose's eyes as the girl judged the distance between them. "Just know that…he cares for you. So much. Even if he never says it. It's all in the smiles you two share. The laughter. Because I've never seen him smile and laugh with me the way he does with you." She tilted her head, trying to capture Rose's eyes as the girl looked down.

Her words, however, brought Rose's attention back then. "I see," she said thickly, her eyes tinged red, her lips pursing once more. "So…you're the one after me then?" And she turned away even as the question left her mouth, her face paling once more. "And what about Martha? She there, too? Where am I?"

Donna settled into silence, understanding her questions and knowing they would have come out at some point.

"Am I there?" Rose asked her. And she recoiled even as Donna remained quiet. "No, obviously not. That's why you're here, I mean. Because I'm not. Or because something happens to me at some point." She lifted a hand to her head, wishing she could understand. "Am I dead?"

Donna stiffened. "No."

Rose stared at her, a scowl crossing her face. "Are you lying to me?"

Taking a step away, Donna slowly held up her hands peaceably. "There are things…I can't talk about," she said carefully. "And this is one of them. I just need you to understand that the Doctor cares for you. It's why I'm here. Why we're doing all this. Because something…_happens_…that isn't out of your hands. Not really."

Rose glared at her. "Make sense," she ordered shortly. "Just…out with it."

Donna exhaled in a soft sigh, her expression fighting to curl in anger. After a moment she composed it, her hands still lifted. "I can't," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I just can't. But don't tell him either. Your Doctor. The past Doctor. He-"

"Why not?" Rose demanded. "If he knows maybe he can help me, help _us,_ with everything that's going on-"

"Because everything you do here in the past affects everything that happens in the future," Donna answered, cutting her off. "Once we know where we went wrong we can figure out how to fix it here. And if your Doctor, your version of the Doctor, if he knows, then he'll start doing things now." She broke off. "Please. Not now. Not now that we're so close. Just leave the timeline alone for now and let us handle it on our side."

Rose hesitated, uncertain what to say. Where to even begin to argue.

"Believe me," Donna said to her, her hands finally falling back to her sides. "Once we know how to fix it, you'll never have to hear from us again. The future will iron itself out from what we do. You'll never even know what we did. I promise."

Rose settled into silence at her words, her hands fisted. "Is that…all you're going to tell me? You can't tell me anything else?" she asked the redhead.

Donna's lips tightened into a firm line and she shook her head wordlessly, bowing it.

With a sigh Rose turned back toward the blue dress, her eyes trailing down its length almost blindly. Taking the material into her hand she glanced over her shoulder at Donna and caught sight of the familiar figure heading their way, winding around the racks lazily. "He's coming," she whispered to Donna, her eyes flying back to the woman.

Donna whirled around as the Doctor finally reached them, his dark eyes darting from Donna to Rose and then back once more. "Hello, again," he said to her, smiling effortlessly. "Were you the one then? Following us all about?"

Donna opened her mouth to speak indignantly, a finger lifting.

Rose stepped in the way, gesturing toward Donna and pushing her back slightly. "No, no. I was a complete idiot, Doctor. I thought she was following us, remember? Well, turns out I dropped my…my…" And she came to a dead stop, hesitating suddenly, her eyes flying to Donna. And a second later the look twisted beseechingly.

"Her key," Donna replied a bit too loudly and, with her heart beginning to speed up, she pulled out her own TARDIS key from her pocket, waving it. "I saw her drop it earlier and I've been looking all over for her. Lucky I saw you standing by the escalator, I figured she'd be on this floor. And she was!" A wide, feigned smile broke over Donna's face and slowly, reluctantly, she dropped her key into Rose's palm.

The Doctor's face was blank and the slightest bit pale as Donna and Rose glanced at him.

Rose waved the key awkwardly. "Silly of me, wasn't it, Doctor?" she prodded, smiling weakly.

The Doctor's eyes followed the key as Rose stuffed it into her pocket. "Quite," he replied softly, his eyes darting once more in Donna's direction as the redhead continued to smile. "Thank you for…the key," he said to her, motioning to Rose's pocket.

Donna glanced at him. "No trouble at all. Well, you two have a lovely day," she said. And she turned to look at Rose, her back shifting slightly to the Doctor, her face contorting as she gestured severely to Rose's pocket with her eyes. As Rose blinked at her she turned once more to the Doctor and began to gingerly step away.

"Oh, Doctor," Rose began, reaching out and dragging him to her side before turning them both to face the blue dress on the rack before them. "What do you think about this dress?"

Donna took another step away, her entire body stiff. She needed that key back. She needed it-

"I think it's lovely," the Doctor murmured, bowing his head as he turned his attention to it. "Even the material. Reminds me a bit of-"

Rose's hand snuck out from behind their frames in Donna's direction, palm turned up, key resting there.

Silently, holding her breath, Donna took a step back toward them, snatched up the key instantly and quickly darted off, hurrying. This would be one story to tell…someone at some point. Of that she had no doubt.

* * *

"So much shopping!" Rose exclaimed as they entered the TARDIS once more, loaded down with numerous bags. Behind her the Doctor shut the door, slipping his coat from his shoulders as he set down some of the bags she had burdened him with as well. Tossing the coat aside he took hold of the shopping bags once more as Rose floated up to the console and set her own bags down, dropping her frame into the jump seat. "What a day."

"Indeed," the Doctor replied, setting down the bags beside hers. "So tonight or tomorrow? Gamorra?" he reminded her. "I really do think you'll enjoy it."

Rose smiled at him. "It's not as if we're really on a schedule, yeah?" she smiled. "How about you give me a few hours? I'll take a nap, shower and get ready and then we'll just go. How's that sound?"

The Doctor was already nodding, pulling on an earlobe as he circled his TARDIS console. "Sounds fine. Gives me a bit of time to get under the TARDIS. She's been a bit jittery lately. I think it might be a bit tougher than I previously anticipated, recycling the stored power of the hypernova."

Rose sat up once more. "Do you need more time? I mean…we really _can_ always go tomorrow. You said they celebrated for eight days after all…"

"No, no. It's fine," the Doctor replied. "You go on ahead, take your nap. I should be ready by the time you're done. Need help bringing the shopping bags to your room?" And he glanced toward her, a hand finding its way into his pocket.

Rose vaulted herself off the jump seat. "Nope, I'm good. I'll just make a few trips. You get started." And she began to scoop several bags into her hands, dragging them closer.

Catching sight of one bag in particular the Doctor reached out, quickly darting toward her. "Oh, that one-"

Rose paused in mid-scoop, her fingers closed around the handle of the bag.

"I wanted to actually give it to you later but…now that I think about it," he murmured, taking the bag from her. "Maybe I'll just give it to you now."

Rose blinked at him. "For me? You got me something?" she asked him quizzically as he smiled faintly, lifting the bag onto the jump seat and digging in almost like a gleeful little boy.

"Well," he drawled with a slight shrug, pulling out material wrapped in tissue paper, "I saw you eyeing it earlier, before we ran into the woman, with the ginger-" And he motioned to his hair, glancing at her, the parcel held in his other hand limply.

"Donna," Rose said with a nod. And she threw him a weak smile. "Her name was Donna. Donna Noble."

The Doctor paused. "Gave you her name, did she?" he echoed in surprise. But then, waving it off, he turned back to the tissue wrapped item. "Well, whatever the case, I thought I would get it for you since I noticed you hovering over it for a bit." And falling into silence he held out the gift, an adorably wide grin coming to life on his face.

With the tiniest arch to her brow but a smile of her own breaking, Rose took the parcel from him and straightened, unwrapping the tissue paper. And as it came open she felt her heart skid to a stop, ice streaking down her back.

The black dress from the department store.

"I noticed you looking at it for a while from the escalator," he went on, gauging her reaction and then dropping his gaze to the dress as she pulled it out fully and let it hang in her grip. "It's rather lovely, I'll admit. I'm sure you'll look…well…" And he broke off, turning his stare awkwardly from the dress back to the bag it had come in.

Rose remained speechless. But now there was the slightest twist in her stomach.

She knew why Donna had told her to get the blue dress. Because in her future she had owned _this_ dress. Donna had said it herself, that she had seen the dress in one of her closets. That the Doctor had liked the dress very much.

"There's…no way around it, is there?" Rose whispered faintly, her eyes caught on the dress.

"Sorry?" The Doctor asked with slightly wide eyes, glancing at her once more. As he searched her face he said, "Don't like it? I can always…take it back?" And he tilted his head to catch her attention, leaning back against the console.

Rose swallowed. "No," she replied. Then with a firm edge to her voice she repeated, "No. I love it. Thank you for the dress. It's beautiful." And she lifted a mischievous glance at him, her lips curling. "Maybe not rubbish when it comes to women's clothing after all."

The Doctor smiled once more, legs crossing at his ankles, arms folding over his chest as his gaze flew from her eyes to the dress in her hands and then back again. "You're quite welcome," he said quietly. Then, looking about once more he continued on, his voice falling back to its normal pitch. "And I have work to do. So go on and do what you have to do. And just let me know when you're done."

With that he lifted himself from the console and turned his back on her to examine it, a slight frown crossing his brow as he entered fix-it mode.

Setting aside the dress slowly, her eyes dragging away from it, Rose floated up beside him, hesitating momentarily. Then with a purposeful tap to his shoulder, she waited for him to turn back around, his eyebrows arched in question. Wordlessly she lifted her arms and flung them around his neck, catching him by complete surprise.

"Spontaneous hugging!" he said with a wide smile over her shoulder as she buried her face in his neck. And he returned the embrace fiercely, dragging her to his lean frame. "I _love_ that!"

She giggled into his collar, refusing to release him for a long moment. "You'll probably get tons more of them once we see this place you're taking me to next," she said, inhaling his scent and feeling it to be just right. Exactly him.

"Aw, I can't wait," he replied to that, his voice softening once more, his hands warming on her waist and back. And as she finally stepped back from him, hands sliding from his neck down his chest, he sent her a winning smile, all teeth and crinkled eyes.

Smiling herself now, she slid a hand inside the jacket of his suit, digging into the interior pocket as he merely allowed her, his frame swaying slightly as she worked. She envied the complete trust he had in her at times. She glanced up and met his dark gaze head on, her hand moving about inside his jacket. His pupils were dilated as he waited for her to finish what she was doing. What did that mean again, pupil dilation? She couldn't remember. A second later she found what she was looking for and produced his specs. Tongue poking at her teeth, she slid them onto his face. "There you go," she murmured. "Ready for work."

He merely continued to stare at her, his smile soft behind his bespectacled gaze.

"And…I'll be back in a few hours." She took a step back from him, smoothing his suit jacket once more. Feigning nonchalance under the heat of his look she dragged her eyes from him, keeping them carefully intent on his suit. "Think you can get on without me for a bit?"

"Only for a bit," he drawled with a small shrug, his voice slightly husky.

Her eyes caught on his for the slightest moment as she swallowed and then they darted away again. "Ok then," she whispered through a sudden block in her throat. "Thank you. For the dress. Again. And I'll be out later."

"Molto bene," he said, puffing up his chest with the statement. And he waited for her as she took hold of all her items, every single bag, and skipped off with them. As she vanished into the back hallways of the TARDIS he felt his smile slip the slightest bit. But then he turned his attention to the console and all was fine once more.

* * *

When she returned to the TARDIS, there was a slight skip to her step. Things were different now. She could feel it. She felt relief within her. That had to mean something. Once she stepped through the doors of the TARDIS she would see a change, _feel_ a change. Perhaps the Doctor would smile now the way he had smiled with Rose. Perhaps lines will have disappeared from his face, shadows from under his eyes. Perhaps-

The TARDIS console room was empty.

Passing it, Donna Noble headed straight for the hallway leading deeper into the TARDIS. There were only a few places he hid himself and she knew just about all his spots. She tried the kitchen area first, finding it to be empty, except for the cooling cup of tea he had obviously forgotten about. Moving past it she headed for the next likely room and found it ajar.

Rose's room.

Pushing the door open gently a bit more she peeked in and found him sitting on the corner of Rose's old bed, staring blankly but intently toward one of her closets. Swallowing slightly, Donna slipped into the room and hesitated at the doorway, hands sliding the door shut a bit behind her.

"I really think I got through to her," she said to him softly, her eyes flying around the room before darting back toward him.

He remained silent, merely blinking periodically at the open closet.

Taking a step and drawing away from the door, Donna leaned down, attempting to catch his eyes. "Doctor?"

He nodded slightly, his elbows resting wearily on his knees as he hunched slightly over them.

She had been wrong. Staring at him, sizing him up, he had the same lines on his face, even more if it could be believed. The hard set to his jaw was evident as if he'd always had it. The shadows under his eyes were more pronounced, his entire face just so tired. "I…" she uttered, uncertain. Refusing to believe. "She…she _listened_ to me. She did. I'm telling you, she was there with me. She was…she…" she broke off, not understanding. Not wanting the truth. "She _loved_ you. She loved you so _much-"_

The Doctor's eyes fell closed at her words, his breath leaking from his frame painfully.

"I mean-" she cried, straightening. And from the corner of her eyes she caught the faint flash of a familiar blue. Whirling toward the closet she pointed and then darted to the closet door excitedly, reaching in and taking the material into her hand. "This dress! I told her to get the dress! And she did! Look at it, it's right here! I told her not to get the black one-" She turned to him, her voice falling into its usual snide tone. "And I'm sorry about that, I know how much you liked the black one but if it means-"

_"That_ black one?" the Doctor finally spoke. And as Donna looked at him he pointed to the left with a weary finger, not even following his own gesture.

Donna glanced over her shoulder in the direction and felt ice claim her at catching sight of the black dress hanging over the back of a chair in the corner of the room.

"No…" Donna whispered, shaking her head faintly. "No, that's not…I told her not to…"

The Doctor sighed tiredly, shifting, and then rising to his feet. Silently, he floated over to the chair and reached out, taking the dress into his hands and bowing his head as he gazed at it.

"But I _told_ her-"

"I got it for her," he said, forcing her to break off. Gazing at the dress, feeling the material slip across his fingers, he nodded slightly, remembering. "The department store, of course. I never understand until it's too late really. Well. Doesn't matter." His voice died off as he merely stared at the dress. "She wears the dress that night, the night we go to Gamorra. Did you know that?" And he tossed the question over his shoulder at her nonchalantly.

Donna came up behind him, uncertain what to say.

Inhaling deeply, as if to clear cobwebs that congested his lungs, the Doctor murmured, "The things she does. Rose, I mean. The things that she does…" he hesitated, lips parted as he searched for the proper words. "She doesn't do them because she no longer cares."

Donna pursed her lips, feeling defeated.

The Doctor trailed a hand across the bodice of the dress, his index finger digging under a set of pleats etched into the dress. "She does them because she cares too much." He broke off, seeing the dress in his hands but appreciating only the vision of Rose in it, so long ago. When he inhaled again he tricked himself into believing he caught her scent from the material before him. "There is a change. A slight ripple. In the timeline. I can feel it," he said to Donna with another slight nod. "Instead of the blue dress, she'll wear this one," he explained to her. "And she'll wear it for me."

Donna bowed her head, never wanting to wrap her arms around him and comfort him more than she did then. "How does she look in it?" she asked him quietly from behind.

The Doctor lifted his head at her question, as he pondered it. Then, chuckling mirthlessly, a single laugh, he murmured with a slight shake of his head, "Fantastic."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Chapter Fourteen – Distractions:**

"I think…" he said softly, his hand hovering beside her cheek, finger still extended, "that we're dressed just right for the festivities." And he tilted his head as he nudged aside the lock of hair further, eyes focused on the gesture.

"Or for staying in," Rose whispered thoughtlessly, her tone wavering.


	15. Distractions

**A/N: **Hey, I'm sorry I haven't gotten a chance to reply to anyone. It's been pretty busy which is also why this chapter is late. It's also a pretty short chapter, I'm sorry. Enjoy anyways and let me know what you guys think. :)

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen - Distraction**s:

He didn't even bother paying attention to the chameleon circuit. The TARDIS was informing him, yet again, of her fried wires when it came to the appearance of the phone box. Aside from the numerous small issues she was encountering, the chameleon circuit was the one that rang loudest as she connected with the Doctor.

"Are you serious?" the Doctor demanded, lost under her console, deep within her wires. "Are you _really_ throwing that at me right now? Is there something specific you want to change _into?_ Because the appearance of the phone box works just fine with me. I've managed it for years now, I can go on forever with-"

The door of the hallway opened faintly and he paused. How long had he been at work? Cursing under his breath in Gallifreyan, he slid out from under the console, already checking off the list. He was perspiring from the work, needed to change his clothes, and if Rose was ready now he would have to make her wait a bit more. And there was the slightest chance she wouldn't appreciate that one bit.

Hopping to his feet, his hands swiping at his suit pants to dust off grime, he stood up and looked in the direction of the TARDIS hallway, an explanation already on his tongue.

Never had time moved so slowly as to almost freeze on him. Never had he been thankful that it could. He was doomed before he even understood, his lips parting.

She was bringing a small bag with her, digging into it absentmindedly as she approached. He was surprised his intellectual and superior senses even caught that small bit of information. His eyes immediately started at the bottom, quite frankly against the tiny voice in his head that stated he was gawking. And he found that he didn't care.

She was lovely.

In the small moment that he had been frozen, he had registered every piece of her appearance as she had continued to near. But now with her attention diverted, he allowed himself to gaze at her unabashedly, his breath caught in his chest. His eyes fixed to her ankles first, sweeping down. Her legs were somehow, impossibly, balanced on high black heels as if they were trainers but with each step she radiated utter femininity, thoughtless beauty. Swallowing slowly, his eyes tentatively lifted from her ankles up the smooth lines of her legs to her knees. And he hesitated, momentarily allowing the tiniest edge of respect to seep through.

Oh, but she wasn't looking anyway.

He tilted his head the slightest bit, eyes darting back to the hem of the black dress as it skimmed her bare slender thighs. Had her skin always been so golden, shimmering with that brilliant sheen? He felt the little air he had leave him, the small voice in his head alerting him to his respiratory bypass should he have need of it. The skirt flared out from her slender waist, swishing about loosely as she paused in mid-step, irritation crossing her features. With a small sigh she crouched, the hem of the dress hitching around her thighs in the process, and she set down her bag to dig through it. And he swallowed numbly, his gaze straying immediately to her breasts as she bent over her bag. He found himself taking a step thoughtlessly, his hands fisting slightly at his sides before he shoved them into the pockets of his suit. Forcing his eyes away he focused on the cut of the bodice, head falling back slightly. It was horizontally pleated across her breasts in a rich black material, trimmed with thick borders, slender straps winding around her bare shoulders to complete the dress. He cocked his head slightly at the shimmering fabric. It almost resembled the material he had come across on the planet…the planet…

He couldn't, for the life of him, remember the name of the bloody planet.

As she straightened, finally finding what she was looking for in her bag, he had enough sense to quickly turn back to the console. He inhaled deeply, his hands a bit limp and he forced strength into them, bringing them from his pockets and down on the controls almost roughly. He thought of tea. And biscuits. And Queen Victoria. Torchwood. The Face of Boe. Jackie Tyler. Mickey Smith. Jackie Tyler. He clenched his eyes shut, bringing the woman's face to mind but somehow it wouldn't push the image of Rose in that black dress away. Jackie Tyler. Jackie Tyler. The Ood. Ooh, that did it. The Ood. With those tentacles branching from their faces. Oh yes. That eased the pressure a bit-

Her scent suddenly reached him almost violently, her own human fragrance mixed with the light cream she used every day, both underlying a subtle perfume. Too many scents. Was it possible for his senses to overload? He didn't think so but at the moment he couldn't be certain. "What do you think?" she asked him from behind, sounding distant.

Wincing faintly, realizing he had to turn to face her, he gave himself a small moment to breathe only to be nearly consumed with her scent.

_Respiratory bypass. Right. Breathe. Jackie Ood. Ood, Ood, Ood. _

He turned toward Rose as she set aside her handbag then stood fully before him. Lifting her hands at her sides, turning her head a bit, she fixed him with a look that demanded he be truthful with her. "Well?"

Taking almost a drive-by glance at her he immediately twirled back toward the console. "Lovely! You look wonderful! Ready, then?"

"You barely looked!" she cried in disbelief. And she reached out, taking hold of his arm and dragging him back forcefully.

He was spun back around to face her and now she was directly before him, his frame brushing hers, her scent suddenly overpowering. His lips parted instinctively, his eyes darting down to meet hers and for a moment he couldn't speak. Neither could she, it seemed, as she found herself within such close quarters of him. Her hair shone smoother than he had ever seen it, straight long strands of pale blond wisps around her eyes and cheeks. Faintly curious, his hearts falling out of beat, he saw that the ends reached down her bare shoulders and back, wild. Swallowing, she lifted her head back to him, seeming to compose herself. "So?" she asked him softly, her breath faint, her stare trapping him.

He couldn't see anything else except the darkness of her eyes as he met them. Summer night. "Uh…"

She gazed at him, head bowing, her lips pursing ever so slightly as if to prod him on.

"You look…um…" he uttered. And he settled himself, swallowing faintly and reprimanding himself silently. He was being ridiculous. This was Rose. "You look beautiful," he said gently, feeling weakness settle in his limbs and somehow not understanding the sensation.

Blinking, her wide eyes straining as she gazed at him in surprise, she murmured softly, "Thanks."

Staring at her, feeling the awkwardness that threatened to settle over them, he quickly spun away from her back to the console. "Well. I will admit that…time escaped me. I'll need a bit to get ready, change out of these clothes. And then we'll head out." He fought the urge to turn back to her as he set the coordinates for the Rexan System. "That fine by you?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly from behind him. "I didn't nap as I wanted to so I did kinda finish ahead of time. You go ahead. I'll wait."

Hearing her shuffle away a bit he glanced over his shoulder in her direction to see her float toward the jump seat and plop down. Moving haltingly now, he finished inputting the data and set it for an hour, his fingers trailing across the controls. Then, hands finding their way into his pockets, he turned to look at her where she sat on the jump seat.

She lifted her eyes to him as he faced her slowly, tilting her head questioningly.

"I'll only be a bit," he said to her. And then, hesitating beside her, his eyes caught by hers, he murmured, "You really do look lovely."

The smallest smile curled her lips, tremulous and weak. "Thanks," she whispered.

With a last nod he left her, hopping down from the console to the hallway leading to the back rooms of the TARDIS. And Rose looked off after him, her legs curling up under her frame on the jump seat.

The black dress felt cold against her hot skin.

* * *

When he returned to the main room not long after, the TARDIS had only just sparked to life, coordinates scrolling down the console monitor. Rose glanced up, stretching her legs, high-heeled shoes set aside and she hesitated as he entered.

Dressed in a tuxedo, his head bowed, the Doctor strode across the console room, seeming to fumble with a cufflink. As he neared the console, he glanced at her and sent her a half-smile, slowing, his bowtie undone around his collar.

Rose swallowed faintly, giving him the once over before focusing entirely on his face and smile. "Am I under-dressed?" she quipped as he rounded the console, halting a few feet away. And she felt the blush rise in her cheeks, forcing herself not to show exactly what she felt or how fast her heart had suddenly begun to beat. How did he always manage to look so good with so little effort?

It was the hair, she decided then, a full smile breaking over her face. She ducked her head, hoping suddenly that his ability to read minds required physical contact and not a mere look. But she couldn't stop her eyes from darting back to appreciate the view. Yes, definitely the hair. The whole package wasn't too bad either though.

"Not a bit," he was saying with a single shake of his head, drawing near. "You look absolutely beautiful. And quite honestly, I think I do, too." And he grinned widely as he stopped before her.

She grinned as well, her eyes dropping to his cuff. "Come here, let me get that," she murmured and she lifted her arms, reaching toward him.

Silently he held out his wrist, gazing down at her. Unaware of the attention he graced her with, she focused on the cufflink and corrected it for him, running a hand across it as she finished. And as she did so she looked up at him, wide eyes lined with black and silver, tendrils of soft baby fine hair falling down her shoulders as she tilted her head up.

He didn't dare, he admonished himself a moment later. But it did not deter him from shifting his wrist away from her, from lifting a finger and using it to brush aside a lock of pale blond hair from her cheek. She gazed at him as he did so, her eyes losing focus for a small moment, a breath leaving her frame almost tremulously. Silently, he bent slowly and seated himself beside her, his eyes caught to hers as he did so. She followed his movements, lips parting, long hair slipping down from her shoulder as she bowed her head to maintain her stare.

"I think…" he said softly, his hand hovering beside her cheek, finger still extended, "that we're dressed just right for the festivities." And he tilted his head as he nudged aside the lock of hair further, eyes focused on the gesture.

"Or for staying in," Rose whispered thoughtlessly, her tone wavering.

The Doctor's eyes darted to meet hers once more.

Suddenly realizing what she had said, awareness flooded her gaze again and she immediately turned her head away from him. His finger trailed across her cheekbone as she did so and he hesitated, his finger curling away, his body recoiling from her wordlessly.

Awkwardness thrumming through her, Rose bent over and took a high-heeled shoe into her grasp once more, slipping it on before reaching for the other.

The Doctor settled on his rear, watching her work, recognizing the stressed energy to her movements. But he held his tongue as she seized the other shoe, his gaze shifting from her hand to the profile of her face.

Putting the shoe back on, she paused before smiling a bit too widely and she turned her attention to him again, sitting up straight. "So, we should be there soon," she remarked. "The TARDIS started moving just as you got in-"

"Yes," he said quickly and he snapped to his feet, practically lunging for the console and the monitor. "I had it set to leave within the hour. We actually should be coming up on the Rexan system right about-"

Rose reached out reflexively for balance as the TARDIS landed, jostling them about. With a small creak and a hard bang, the phone box ceased moving and Rose was left clutching the jump seat, glancing about warily.

"That was one of the smoothest landings I've ever had," the Doctor marveled, lifting his head to the core of the TARDIS, a smile widening on his face.

Rose threw him a look.

Straightening slowly, hesitating only for a moment, the Doctor whirled on her, excitement filling his expression. "Ready?" he asked her and he practically hopped on his heels, grinning.

Quickly swiping her bag off the floor she paused and then immediately set it on the jump seat, hopping up. "Forget the bag. Let's go!" And she came to a stop as the Doctor offered her his arm with a softening smile. Returning his grin she slipped her arm through his and allowed him to lead her down the ramp and out the doors of the TARDIS into the Gamorran night.

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**Next Chapter – Chapter Fifteen: King and Queen of Earth**

Every part of her that he hadn't touched had flared up into goose bumps and it had to be from the cold. But her skin flamed under his hands. She couldn't think of a time when she'd felt _hotter._ And just when she was sure she would melt from such a heat, his other hand lifted, curling around her neck, fingers sliding into the soft hair at the nape. A sharp chill streaked down her back, feeling draining away from her own fingers, her frame shuddering against her will. Yes, for this one touch would she have given it all up. This one touch.


	16. King and Queen of Earth

**A/N: **Ok to make up for the short chapter last time, here's one twice as long, lol! Enjoy. And thank you for the reviews, keep 'em coming! :)

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen – King and Queen of Earth:**

He had told her to act like a noble. So she had lifted her head, pursed her lips and mimicked his absentminded attitude. Clutching his arm, head turned away from the Gammoran citizen at the doorway, she waited as the Doctor flashed the psychic paper as introduction. The Gammorans as a people were humanoid in form, very quiet and very humble. Also slightly green tinged when it came to their skin tone. With a small bow, the Gammoran at the door allowed them entry, already turning to the couple in line behind them.

"What did the paper say?" she questioned under her breath, still looking about with a raised nose and a tiny look of disdain.

The Doctor risked a quick peek at the psychic paper as he shoved it inside his tuxedo pocket. "King and Queen of Earth, it seems," he muttered right back.

Rose winced slightly, tossing him a glare. "Do they know that Earth doesn't have a king or queen?" she asked him with an arched brow.

"Apparently not."

Shaking her head with a small smile, Rose took a look about as they drifted through the small lobby and she bit back a gasp. The Royal House of the Gamorran rulers was enormous and packed fully with people of different species. She didn't know whether to stare at the people as she passed them, with their different-colored skin tones and vibrant, flashy dresses or the designs and decorative arches of the walls and floors. She frowned though as she recognized the architecture of the House as Roman and she hesitated, bringing the Doctor to a stop beside her.

"What is it?" he asked her curiously.

Her eyes darted around the room, wide. "Why…does this architecture look…Roman?" she questioned tentatively.

The Doctor also raised his gaze to the walls and ceiling, pausing. "Oh, didn't I mention? Early Roman architects were influenced by the Gamorrans when a group of travelers happened to crash land on Earth in the past." And he shrugged, moving to walk once more.

She resisted fiercely. "Are you serious?"

He glanced at her. "Of course not. I'm joshing you, Rose." And he broke into a wide smile at her, head tilting slightly.

Rose's amazement dwindled away to cold derision.

"What actually happened," he went on and now he dragged her, forcing her along reluctantly, "is that the Gamorrans were introduced to the human Roman architecture in the year 4919," and he lowered his voice slightly, stating in an undertone, "your Earth time, of course. An actual architect was part of a mission to learn of the Gamorran people and culture and that's how this grand hall came to be." And he motioned about, passing through the main doors into what seemed to be a ballroom.

Rose followed silently, astonished. "So, wait," she said with a quick shake of her head, her eyes lifting to the ceiling of the ballroom. The room itself was larger than any room she had ever encountered and she felt a small breath leave her upon realizing that the ballroom led out into a lush lawn, a _blue_ lawn, thick pale pillars sustaining the large canopy over their heads. "What year is this?"

The Doctor paused, surveying the area before dragging her to a small alcove of the room. "The year is 4922, your time," he replied to that.

She stared at him. "I thought we were coming here in our proper time."

He pursed his lips, looking about with open interest. "Eh, so I miscalculated a little. A lot. A little, really." And he motioned suddenly, excitement crossing his face once more. "Oh, look at that! They have Ood!" A moment later his face settled slightly into concession with a small pause, his head tilting toward her. "And they're still waiting on others."

Rose looked in the direction he motioned, her face betraying anticipation. "This is incredible!" she whispered to him and his disapproval floated away to mimic her eagerness instantly.

"Isn't it?" he agreed shamelessly. And he ushered her through the crowd politely, murmuring pardons and leading her. She allowed him to guide her, her hand caught in his as he held it out before the two of them, his other hand coming to settle on her hip. The jostling crowd ended up pushing her up against him, her back to his chest and he slowed momentarily halfway across the floor. She was sure she didn't imagine it when his breath trailed across her bare shoulder but when she turned her head to him he was stepping back slightly from her, a quick smile crossing his face. Brushing past a couple, she realized she didn't mind it one bit if he took a moment to breathe her in. She was doing the same whenever his scent floated past her, his frame pressing against her back as they circled around guests.

Finally reaching the edge of the floor, they separated, hands still linked. Inhaling deeply Rose looked at him quizzically. "What's that smell?"

The Doctor glanced back at her, an eyebrow arching. Then, sniffing momentarily, he motioned to the blue grass before them. "Freshly mowed lawn."

She tilted her head, blinking. "It doesn't smell like grass," she argued.

His smile was cheeky. "This isn't Earth."

It was lovely nonetheless and she returned his smile as he led her along the edge of the floor and finally out onto the grass. It reached higher than she was used to from a lawn that had been freshly trimmed and she found it to tickle her bare ankles as she followed him. Even with the blue color to the blades it resembled and felt like grass against her skin.

Wordlessly, the Doctor pointed up at the sky.

She looked up and found herself in awe, her lips parting. "Two moons," she murmured, her eyes catching on the twin orbs above. And as a red glow suddenly lit the night sky she gasped. "Fireworks?"

He weighed the word thoughtfully. "Not exactly. More along the lines of lightning bugs. There are thousands of them up there right now. And they light up the sky at night. That scent you caught earlier? The lawn? It's actually been sprayed down with a chemical compound to attract these creatures."

She stared in awe. "Are you serious? That light there? It's…lightning bugs? And in red?"

He shook his head, his fingers reflexively tightening around hers. "Oh, they come in all colors, actually. Depending on the season, on the moisture in the air. From what I sense of the atmosphere, they'll light up red, blue and yellow tonight." And as if to prove his point the glow in the night shifted from red to a soft blue, yellow coming to life in a small spray to their right.

"Oh, that's beautiful," Rose whispered, taken aback.

At her side the Doctor lowered his head and gazed at her with a wide smile. And as she turned to return his gaze she saw the smile fade slightly, settle into something softer. The fireflies burst into a flash of pure yellow and then shifted into red gently and she watched the lights caress his features in the night, suddenly feeling the rest of the world fall away from them. There were precious few times that she had been hit with a feeling of profound trust and love like the moment she stood in then but when it happened it swept her away entirely. It was happening now and she couldn't help herself, couldn't have stopped herself even if she had tried. One moment she stood on firm ground and the next she felt as if she was pin-wheeling away in his gaze. If she just stared into his dark eyes, reflecting the red and the yellow of the night, she could see such worlds there that would put all the things to which he had introduced her to shame. Turning her frame to gaze at him, she found herself having to tilt her head backward and he mirrored her, inching his shoulders toward her. She had missed a moment before, a chance, kneeling before him as he had leaned toward her that night on the park bench. Only later that night had she understood how close he had been and how easily she could have turned her head to him. And she had wondered what he had thought being that close, if the same thoughts had gone through his head that had gone through hers. There was no way for her to know that now but his hand against her face and his thumb pressed to her mouth should have been a clear indication. Had he been any other man.

Her eyes shifted down to his mouth just as his lips parted, just as he released her hand to lightly grasp her wrist instead. His touch was colder than she was used to and in the cool night air it sent a shiver through her. Or maybe it wasn't the temperature as much as the touch itself. Rarely was he gentle when he touched her. Always caring but not soft like this. This, in her mind, was a lover's caress, his fingers trailing up her arm toward her elbow and then hesitating. She felt herself blink in slight confusion, her head turning slightly toward the caress but unwilling to drop his gaze. And from the corner of her eyes she saw his other hand lift, fingers drawing close to her cheek. She held his eyes, also feeling her lips part as she wondered momentarily if he would actually touch her.

"I thought I'd lost you," he murmured ever so quietly. So much in fact that she paused, uncertain whether she had heard him speak at all. And then she heard his words and she felt even more lost somehow. No longer pin-wheeling but now flat out falling at the sorrow she had caught in his voice. His fingertips grazed her cheek and she closed her eyes, much too aware of his presence and the soft trail of his fingers even through the weightlessness she felt all over. All the time she had spent in that other world, she would have given it all up in a heartbeat for this one touch. His palm came to rest against the curve of her jaw, thumb moving across her skin, and she felt tiny shivers run through her from the one spot. She pressed her cheek into his hand, wanting more contact somehow, wanting more of him. Every part of her that he hadn't touched had flared up into goose bumps and it had to be from the cold. But her skin flamed under his hands. She couldn't think of a time when she'd felt _hotter._ And just when she was sure she would melt from such a heat, his other hand lifted, curling around her neck, fingers sliding into the soft hair at the nape. A sharp chill streaked down her back, feeling draining away from her own fingers, her frame shuddering against her will. Yes, for this one touch would she have given it all up. This one touch.

"You…but you came back for me," she uttered, trying to make sense of her own words. The darkness behind her closed eyelids brightened momentarily and she knew it was because the lightning bugs had lit up again in the night sky. She wanted to open her eyes to see but she found herself unwilling to break away from the closeness she felt to the Doctor then.

"I would do it again," he replied and her muscles seized faintly as she felt his breath across her mouth. She hadn't realized he was quite that close. "In a heartbeat. Two, in fact." And she sensed the smile in his words, could picture it in her mind, flashing across his face, illuminated by blue and yellow lights. Even in her thoughts he was beautiful.

"I'm glad you did," she whispered, her eyebrows drawing in, feeling the lone spark of sorrow in her words.

As if understanding that sadness, she felt him draw closer and then his forehead was pressed to hers, his scent hovering between them. "Me, too," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the night.

And she realized in that moment she could do it. That moment she had missed before, she could make up for it then and there. She was close enough, she could merely turn her head toward him, just tilt. Her heart filling to the brim, she found herself somehow hesitating, anxious. But at the same time, she never wanted to move from that spot, from his arms. "I can't stay here forever," she breathed senselessly, shaking her head slightly against his.

There was a slight hesitation clouded with confusion from him. "Wha-"

A moment later all thought flew from her mind and his lips as she tilted her head, rising onto tiptoe. She had meant for it to be a small kiss, the tiniest brushing of a caress. But she had caught him in the middle of a word and it had somehow become more. And she knew afterward, when she thought back to that moment, it had been that timing that had caused it to go the way it had gone.

She was left grasping him by the material of his suit, taking fistfuls of it and not caring whether she left wrinkles in it. She felt his lean frame through the suit, the surface firm under her palms as her hands tightened and she hadn't expected it to be more than the slight brush of his mouth. But his lips had been parted in mid-sentence as had hers and the kiss seemed somehow desperate. Through a haze she understood it was a kiss that fully acknowledged the time they had spent apart, the helplessness they had both felt from the separation. Even as his fingers curled to grasp her face, to hold her to him, his shoulders seemed to stiffen roughly. It seemed almost an assault, fraught with despair. She felt sorrow rise through her painfully, pressing closer, needing to pull him down to her, to connect them in some other way than the physical sense. He seemed to need the same, his hand slipping slightly down her face to rest against her collar, his fingers trailing slowly. She exhaled against his mouth, arching backward as he tilted his head further, dipped into her.

And just like that, mid-way through reaching, he suddenly hesitated, eyes squeezing shut, his fingers seeming to strain as if from some inward conflict. Rose bit back a startled gasp, unable to open her eyes just yet and uncertain as to what had happened. His parted mouth brushed hers slightly as he inhaled shakily against her, as she made a move to bring herself closer to him once more. But even as she reached, his hand was pressing down on her collar, staying her attempt and she still didn't understand. She only knew that she wanted more, that she _needed _more then.

Holding herself to him nonetheless, she allowed him a moment to merely breathe, to seem to regain some form of restraint. But as he breathed, she could sense that same longing still rolling off him, seeming to radiate from him and wash over her in its wake. She attempted once more, another slight arch forward and he almost allowed her, lifting his head. And just as she managed to trail her upper lip to his bottom, his hand lifted once more to her jaw and tightened firmly, holding her still. She recoiled faintly, settling once more on her heels but still pressed to him, forehead to forehead as if that separation was just a bit too much more than he wanted at the moment. Rose was left in shivering confusion, unable to open her eyes but unwilling to keep them closed when his expression could possibly explain to her what was going on and what he was thinking. Instead, she waited for him, allowing him to merely breathe her in, to feel his fingers tangle in her hair almost thoughtlessly as he hesitated. And almost helplessly, his thumb moved, brushing from her cheek down to her mouth, halting intimately to the corner of her lips before shifting further and pressing against the center of her bottom lip.

Rose shuddered under his touch, aware then that the only thing between their mouths now was his finger. And while she had thought it had been a caress, it had become his barrier. Suddenly realizing she was heaving merely from the gestures alone, she finally pulled back fully, drawing her head from his and leaving that small circle that he commanded.

And while she couldn't open her eyes just then she was only too well aware of when he opened his because that intent stare of his suddenly came to fall on her. She didn't know what he saw then, only what she knew she felt. And she felt hot, as if her skin could release the heat into a fine mist around her. And she also felt off-centered, as if the Earth had shifted under her feet. Because for one small, defining moment, it certainly had. Unable to stop herself, she bowed her head, her eyes finally opening and only being able to focus on the pressed line of his tuxedo pants and the black converse. The mere sight of those trainers had such a sudden and incomprehensible effect on her. Who would wear Converse to a special engagement? Of course he would, this strange, wonderful man. She shook her head sharply, a hand lifting to her head to cover her eyes, her hair falling down the sides of her face as she struggled to compose herself, to shed some of the ungodly heat she was straining with. She couldn't even seem to think straight, only needing another second to try to collect herself.

The trainers in her blurred line of sight moved then and she felt him close once more. But this time, the arms that enveloped her were comforting. She lifted her head, avoiding his eyes, and felt those long, lean arms wrap around her shoulders and back, pulling her to him tightly. And she went wordlessly, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder, finding her eyes lifting to look up at those creatures in the sky throwing brilliant color across the night.

"I…" she whispered, uncertain what to say but feeling she needed to say something. "I don't know what I was thinking."

It took him a long while to respond. "Me neither," he murmured although it did not come out unkindly. Only mournfully.

Rose's lips tightened into a firm line as she understood. She should have honestly known better. Even if he did sometimes confuse her with his gestures. Wearily, she simply stood in his embrace, staring up at the night sky and appreciating once more that even if this was as far as it would ever go, he had still shown her more than anyone ever had. If she spent the rest of her life hopelessly in love with him, she would be ok so long as she was still with him to the end. And the mere thought allowed her to take her first, deep breath.

His embrace loosening a bit, he pulled back from her, his hands once more coming to rest on her arms and rubbing the skin there as if he found it to be cold. It couldn't have been more the opposite but she did find herself appreciating the sentiment. And this time when she raised her eyes toward him she was able to meet his, a blush rising in her cheeks. "Sorry about that," she said faintly.

A half smile quirking the corner of his lips, the Doctor raised one of his hands to her face once more, pressing it against her jaw tenderly before releasing her, moving to take her hand instead. And as he found it, he lifted his head once more to the sky, to the lightning bugs, his expression oddly wistful and regretful as he turned to face outward once more.

Standing there now in complete awkwardness, Rose also faced the lawn, looking around blindly. No one even seemed to mind that her world had been simultaneously combusting and falling apart a moment before. Shaking her head inwardly, she caught sight of an Ood as he neared the perimeter, a tray of champagne in his hand. Swallowing thickly, she realized that she could definitely have used a drink then. Waiting silently until he was close enough, she moved slightly in his direction, the Doctor turning his head at her sudden shift.

The Ood nodded and bowed, offering the tray of clear liquid in lovely tall-stemmed glasses to first her and then the Doctor. He shook his head at that quickly, Rose immediately lifting away a flute, and the Ood trailed off back into the crowd.

"I would suggest being careful with-" the Doctor began as he looked at her, his dark eyes wide.

She was already swallowing most of the champagne in the flute down, her eyes narrowing at the sweet taste of the fluid in the glass. Not champagne, she realized a moment too late. And as she recoiled slightly she could see the subtle differences between the fluid in the flute to regular bubbly. A bit clearer than champagne and not even remotely fizzy.

"-that," the Doctor finished and he paused, eyeing her warily. As she looked at him, lowering the flute, he studied her intently, taking a step toward her once more. "How do you feel?"

She blinked, holding the glass in her grasp, her expression turning questioning. "I'm fine. I thought it was champagne. I guess not. What is this?" She questioned him. But as he merely observed her intently she felt confusion rise in her. "Why are you looking at me like-"

And a moment later she suddenly understood why he seemed concerned. All around her the air suddenly seemed thicker and unbearably hot once more, the room becoming almost surreal. "Wha-"

"Yeah…" he drawled and he glanced about quickly before turning his attention back to her. Fluidly, he swiped the flute from her hand and set it on the tray of a passing Ood with a small nod.

"W-what was that?" Rose asked him, blinking rapidly. She bowed her head, the heat suddenly sickly sweet and very aware that her hand in his seemed strange, her senses somehow muffled. "Am…am I sloshed?"

"You tell me," the Doctor replied to that and he released her hand, looking about once more before lifting both hands to her face and grasping it gently.

She raised her eyes to him, aware of the darkness at the center of his gaze and the heat that seemed to radiate from him as well. It was almost suffocating, his heat, and as he gazed at her intently she found herself feeling very exposed before him. And thoroughly enjoying every moment of it. Her lips parted, her breath slipping from her and he bowed his head, eyes still caught to hers, hands cupping her face. "What's wrong?" she asked him, her voice throaty, her eyes hooded.

He tilted his head back at that, fingers shifting almost clumsily as if she had caught him off his guard. And she caught the expression on his face. He meant to pull away, wanted to pull away from her but was quite slow to. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. But the drink you just consumed is twice the proof of a single shot of earth alcohol. And you took more than half that glass in one swallow."

She blinked. "What does that mean?" she asked him with a quizzical shake of her head. And she paused as the world struggled to catch up with her, his hands holding her face straight. "Oh. Best not to do that too often."

The corner of his mouth quirked downward slightly. "Exactly. Rose Tyler, you are about to be completely drunk."

Staring at him, she uttered, "What?"

He cocked his head thoughtfully, expression shifting. "Or maybe not completely drunk. Let's get something in you to hold that off. And some water as well."

Confused, Rose recoiled slightly as he released her face, one hand taking hold of hers and dragging her behind him. Following numbly, the people around her beginning to mesh into one large blob of colors and movements, she allowed the Doctor to lead her to a small table of white stone off to the side, bordering the lush lawn. Circling the table he seated her carefully and then looked about, motioning to an Ood as he floated through the crowd. "A glass of water, if that would be all right?" he asked.

The Ood bowed before turning away and disappearing back into the crowd.

Searching the area, the Doctor darted into the crowd, vanishing for a moment. Sitting up straight, the gesture causing the strange world around her to pulse, Rose opened her mouth to call for him but he reappeared a moment later, something in his hand. Rejoining her at the table, he straddled the seat comfortably and placed the item before her. "Eat that."

Rose dropped her eyes to what he offered her, examining it. "What is it?" she said slowly, glancing at him quickly.

The Doctor pursed his lips, examining the sample. "It seems to be a concoction made of egg, chicken and bits of red pepper," he replied. "It's the only thing I could see composed of proteins. Although just because it looks like that doesn't mean it _is _that."

She blinked at him once more.

He smiled faintly at her, crossing his arms and dropping his elbows to the table top. "I'm trying to prevent a hangover," he explained to her simply. And a moment later the Ood reappeared at their side, setting down a glass of water between them. The Doctor nodded once more in thanks and as the Ood retreated he slid the glass of water in her direction with a finger.

With a sigh Rose lifted the glass of water and took a large swallow, closing her eyes momentarily. The water was ice cold and exactly what she needed then to calm the revolving world and the immense heat inside her. When she reopened them the Doctor was staring at her with a small smile, head propped on a fist. "Not exactly the way I wanted to start the evening," she let him know, causing him to turn his head away with a chuckle.

"I admit, I was expecting to see a bit more of Gamorra before dragging you back to the TARDIS plastered," he joked.

Lifting the glass of water once more she eyed him suspiciously. "You were going to take advantage of me in my drunken state. My mum always said aliens like you couldn't be trusted." And she nodded firmly, lifting the glass in a toast to Jackie before taking another gulp full of the fluid. She was well aware of her words even as she had said them but it was the only way she could see to bring their friendship back to the forefront. She didn't know what she would do without that.

"Drat. I've been found out," the Doctor said with a sigh of his own. And as Rose threw him a wry grin he glanced around the room, surveying the crowd. "It would seem the crowd is waiting."

"Waiting on what?" she asked and she eyed the small item before her with a frown, reaching out to poke at it before dragging it closer to her. The House was terribly hot and uncomfortable but she was certain it had more to do with the drink she'd had than the actual temperature. And quite possibly the kiss before that. She threw a very quick glance at the Doctor as she thought it, as if he could somehow read her thoughts merely sitting there. But as he turned to observe her, she lifted the small food concoction into her hand and took a tentative bite in experimentation. And a moment later she gave it a look of surprise. "Wow, this is good, actually."

The Doctor reached out as another Ood passed and swiped another of the same food, placing it before her as well. "I don't know," he continued with his previous observation. "Waiting on a visitor? They're supposed to have a guest of honor. I'm not really sure who it could be…" He looked back over the crowd, frowning slightly as he searched the party-goers and a moment later he caught sight of a small board on the far wall. Standing from his seat he murmured, "Be right back," and floated toward the sign, reaching into his tuxedo pocket and pulling on his specs.

Rose watched him absentmindedly, nibbling at the food in her palm.

Around them sounds and music seemed to pick up. Or it seemed like music. Strange rings and bells stringing together to form a song. She attempted to keep up with all the notes but they rang out in a discordant mess, causing her to grimace slightly. It couldn't have been all them though. She was sure her intoxication was playing a part as well in her inability to enjoy the music. She glanced toward the Doctor by the board on the wall and he turned to look over his shoulder curiously.

She arched a brow at him as he glanced at her then turned his attention back to the doors of the Royal House.

With a sound that seemed to resemble a blare of trumpets, two Gamorran citizens appeared at the door and took post at the doorway, straight-backed. Wide-eyed, Rose stood up slightly from the table, her eyes darting toward the Doctor once more who also leaned away from the board for a better look.

A group of four entered the large room silently as they were announced to be the royal family of the Boran colony on the planet Alandrous. Rose stood to her feet, her appetizer forgotten on the table as she finally caught sight of the four newcomers.

The males of the group were taller than the typical earth man but still humanoid in appearance. The females of the group trailed behind at their heels and all of them were flesh-colored. But with additional limbs. Rose stared in wide-eyed silent interest, her gaze trailing down their forms pausing on the arm of the tallest male. The wristband on the male's arm was familiar. As if she had seen it once before somewhere.

The tallest male of the group came to a sudden stop, head lifting. Behind him his companions hesitated as well.

Rose glanced at the Doctor to see him waiting intently, his shoulders stiff and his entire frame brimming with worried anticipation.

The first male inhaled deeply, head twisting to the center of the room.

Without another word but his movements suddenly frantic, the Doctor darted from the board back in Rose's direction. She felt her eyes get dragged back to him as he slid to a stop before her and took hold of her hand rather rudely. "What is it?" she hissed.

"It's time to go," he replied curtly and he yanked her close to his side, beginning to weave through the crowd toward the doors.

The first male sniffed once more, dark eyes narrowing in concentration. Then, in a guttural tone speaking recognizable words, he cried, "Time Lord!" And he produced a weapon from his side, lifting it and aiming into the crowd in their direction.

Jaw clenching, the Doctor broke into a full out run, streaking past guests and ramming into Ood servers apologetically. "Sorry! Sorry! So very sorry. Come on, Rose!"

She followed quickly, throwing glances over her shoulder and bouncing off guests as they moved to get out of her way. The intoxication did nothing to help her even remotely but as adrenaline began to rise in her she found some of the more irritating side effects falling to the side, her sight sharpening. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Coming through-"

_"Time Lord!"_

At the doorway the two Gamorran guards came forth to bar their way as they broke from the crowd. Sliding to a stop before them, Rose rammed into the Doctor from behind. She looked toward the royal family of the Boran colony as they all turned in unison to face them, the head male spinning with his weapon.

_"Don't look at them!"_ the Doctor ordered her violently and she instantly whirled back around in shock at being spoken to so roughly.

"What is it?" she demanded fearfully as the Doctor tried to squeeze past the guards.

Realizing the guards wouldn't let them through the Doctor dug into his inner tuxedo jacket pocket. A moment later he had the sonic screwdriver out and he spun and pointed it up at the light fixtures along the ceiling. Immediately the glass bulbs burst and he aimed toward another one, turning.

Around them the crowd began to scream and shriek, guests scurrying as glass rained down on them. The guards looked around quickly before reaching for the Doctor and he darted aside, yanking Rose behind him. "Run!" he shouted at her and they instantly split from each other, racing around the two guards as they advanced on them.

"Doctor!" she cried, ducking her head and lifting her arms to cover her head as more glass shattered.

"Over here!" he called to her and they met up once more directly outside the doorway, hands linking together before they took off down the lobby hallway. Guests moved to get out of their way as they burst out through the main doors of the royal house, breathing hard. Turning to her momentarily he asked her rapidly, "How do you feel? Are you all right? Dizziness? Nausea?"

She stared at him. "I think I've sobered up, thanks!" she yelled at him.

A wide smile broke over his face. "Brilliant! Then let's be on our way!" And he pointed down at her shoes. "You might want to take those off while running. We don't need an accident!"

And a moment later, once she had removed her high-heeled shoes, they were running again.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Sixteen: The Third Tear**

"It all depends on you, Rose-" he said from under the console, his voice slightly muffled. And a moment later he came up for air and he clutched something in his hand, straightening. A fob watch by the look of it. It was metallic gold and Rose got a quick glimpse of several designs on its face, circles and lines etched into the smooth surface.


	17. The Third Tear

**Chapter Sixteen – The Third Tear:**

_I'm going to rip this dress!_

The words resounded through her head as she ducked, her heels dangling from her hand. She felt the Doctor grab her from behind and shove her down further just as a beam of green light shot past her head. The TARDIS was barely ten feet away and of course they would find themselves running for their lives on Gamorra, _of course._

"A little faster there, Rose," came the Doctor's voice over her shoulder and she realized she had slowed a bit as she had been thinking, as she had been cursing leisure planets all across the universe in her head. She rammed into the door of the TARDIS, the Doctor sliding to a stop next to her and she glanced at him as he scrambled with the key, shoving it into the lock and attempting to turn it quickly.

"Hurry," she ordered him and she kept her gaze on him, on his profile, her face turned from their pursuers. "Hurry, hurry, hurry-"

Banging the door open he shoved her in ahead of him with a tightening to his jaw and instantly followed, staggering as a second beam shot right past his arm and struck the grating of the TARDIS floor. Rose let out a small squeak and scampered up the ramp, tripping to one knee but quickly lifting herself back to her bare feet and running on.

Turning to look over his shoulder quickly the Doctor barely ducked a third beam as it streaked past his face. He instantly shut the door of the TARDIS, falling against it wearily before throwing himself from it and racing up the ramp behind Rose. She waited by the console already, breathing heavily, and she shoved away wild locks of her blond hair as he came up beside her and darted around the console. "Did they see you?" he asked her almost thoughtlessly, shoulders heaving, eyes trailing across the console.

"Festivities, you said!" she cried, waving the high-heeled shoes around in exasperation before tossing them to the TARDIS floor in irritation. "Eight days! _'You'd love it!'_ you said! 'Oh, the Gamorrans are quite accommodating,' _you said!"_ And she broke off into a sigh, hands lifting to her hips before realizing he had asked her a question. "What?" she asked him wearily, circling the console to hover over his shoulder as he peered at the computer screen of the TARDIS. Her feet were sore, scratched up from the Gamorran earth after she had removed her heels to run. Now she leaned on the console, wincing, and glared at the shoes bitterly.

_"Did they see you?"_ he demanded again and this time he darted toward her and took hold of her by the shoulders with fingers clawed into talons, shaking her fiercely.

"N-no," she stuttered, taken aback by his panic as they stared at each other breathlessly. "No, they couldn't have. I was facing forward, I was just running and you _told_ me-" she broke off, her pulse now racing for a different reason entirely. She raised a hand, resting it against his cheek in worry. "Why? What aren't you telling me-" she asked him, staring intently into his dark eyes for a tense moment.

He released her, causing her to break off, her hand trailing away from his face as he quickly turned from her. With jerky gestures, he began to handle the controls once more, effectively forcing the TARDIS to take off and away from their current location and time. Beside him Rose stared off after him wordlessly. Then, almost as if her body couldn't support itself she leaned on the console again, taking a deep breath to calm her runaway nerves, her fingers curling in before rising to rest against her forehead.

"Doctor," she said in a grated tone, exhaling in a huff, "next time you decide we need to take a break, see the sights, have ourselves a good time-"

The console beeped and his gaze flickered toward the console screen, eyes widening under an irritated frown. Growling under his breath he took hold of the screen as if to shake some sense into it. "They're following us."

Looking from him to the screen on the console, still unable to read the characters that flashed across it, Rose merely shook her head. "No…that's-" She grimaced at him. "We're in a _time machine,_ Doctor. How can they do that?"

"Stolen technology," he explained to her rapidly as he stared at the screen. "He's got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. On his wrist. Didn't you see it? They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe-" And he came to a stop, his lips moving but no sound coming out. Straightening slowly, a hand lifting to his hair in realization he murmured numbly, "They're never going to stop."

Rose stared at him, her eyes having lifted as he had risen and now she could only gaze at him, her lips parted. Something was coming by the way he hesitated, the way he held himself. "Who are they?" she asked him faintly, her hand dropping away from her head limply.

"Unless…I'll have to…" he mumbled incoherently, ignoring her question.

Rose bent her head toward him slowly, wishing to rip the idea, the very words, from his mouth. They were spinning through his head, his thoughts, and she would have given much at that moment to be able to see what he thought, to hear what ideas he would have. And to have a clear picture of exactly what kind of threat those creatures following them posed.

Slowly the Doctor looked toward her. And she recognized the look that was crossing his face.

"What?" she asked him weakly as if, no matter what, she was going to get into trouble.

Gazing at her, his eyes unexpectedly saddening, he asked her softly, "You trust me, Rose." And he stated it but with a bit of hope in his tone, his eyes firm. As if he didn't question it but needed to hear her respond anyway.

She returned the look, now knowing full well that she was not going to like what was about to come next. "You know I do, Doctor. Why? What are you on about?"

Quickly, leaving her question hanging, he ducked under the console in search of something and Rose leaned over to search with him, no idea as to what it was he was looking for. Wrapping the lower material of the dress around her thighs, she crouched under the console, peeking at him as he shuffled about blindly, almost frantically.

"Doctor-"

"It all depends on you, Rose-" he said from under the console, his voice slightly muffled. And a moment later he came up for air and he clutched something in his hand, straightening. A fob watch by the look of it. It was metallic gold and Rose got a quick glimpse of several designs on its face, circles and lines etched into the smooth surface.

"Aw, for me?" she asked him sardonically, already lifting a hand to the item. "You shouldn't have-"

He waved off her words impatiently. "Take this watch, Rose, because my life depends on it."

She felt her air cut off halfway through another quip. "Come again?" she breathed, staring at him as if he had gone mad.

"This watch," he said once more and now his voice was firm as he waved the fob watch at her. "This watch is-"

* * *

He snapped awake.

He had dreamt again. Same as the night before. And the night before that. Always the same type of dreams. Otherworldly. Wonderfully fanciful. Blinking to focus, he slowly stretched a bit before rising. Hazy sunlight was drifting in around the heavily curtained windows and it was going to be an overcast day today. But he still saw the visions, the pictures, behind his eyes when he closed them. He blinked once more, head bowing thoughtfully as a knock came from the door and he sat up slowly, calling out a tired, "Yes, come in."

His maid opened the door and floated in, carrying a tray with his breakfast and his morning tea. "Morning!" she called out cheerfully to him, a blur of blond hair with a black and white uniform. She looked about the room, her nose wrinkling a slight bit at not finding a place to set down her tray. "Um. Does this room just get messier or is it me?" she murmured under her breath even though her voice carried well enough.

He smiled to himself. There was something about his maid that he was very fond of. Perhaps the strange way with which she spoke to him. Or herself even. A rough tone, a very coarse way with her words. Any other maid and he would have done away with her but she had been with him for so long, had come with him when he had come to work at the school. He could not for the life of him really see himself without her.

"What's that look on your face, Mr. Smith?" his maid asked him with a small smile as she found a table to set the tray down upon. And she straightened once more, readjusting the black and white uniform she wore unapologetically.

Looking at her he smiled faintly. "Look? Oh, nothing, nothing at all," he said with a small shrug and he rose from the bed, his light pajamas fluttering around his slender frame with the gesture. "Another of those dreams," he replied and he reached over and pulled on his dressing gown, tying it around his waist.

"Oh, really? Do tell!" his maid demanded with a wide smile and without pause she plopped down on his bed to listen.

Hardly something deemed proper for a maid but he couldn't bring himself to reprimand her in the least. Instead he sat back down beside her, grinning at her and realizing that he was partial to her smile and to her good spirits. Every morning, no matter the day nor the circumstances of said day, she was always cheerful, always smiling. He enjoyed that about her very much.

"I hardly think it is something that would be of interest to you, Rose," he said to her, realizing yet again how well her name fit her. And yet, even as her name fit her, it said nothing of her eyes, the brown with the green flecks, the way they seemed to shine in the sunlight. He had caught her outside many a time, always bustling about, and in the sunlight she was beautiful. Summer in her eyes, in her smile.

He snapped from those thoughts. No matter how much he enjoyed spending leisurely time with Rose, he was a teacher and she was but a maid. There was no room for any of that.

She was speaking quietly but enthusiastically, tilting her head as she looked at him. "-all sorts. Nothing really surprises me anymore. But it's up to you if you don't want to talk about it." And she flashed him a wide smile before hopping off the bed and floating over to his windows to pull them open.

He looked off after her as she did so, suddenly wishing she had asked him, had persuaded him to tell her his dreams. "It's just…these dreams…" he called after her, his hands meeting as he hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees. "The strangest dreams…"

At the window she glanced over at him, tying the heavy curtains on either side of the windows.

"Sorry," he apologized, shaking his head. "It's silly, the dreams-"

"What was it about this time?" she asked him smoothly, still watching him as she worked.

He opened his mouth to speak, hesitant. He was going to sound barmy saying it. "I dreamt I was this..." And he broke off, an embarrassed smile crossing his lips for a moment and Rose gazed at him, a tender smile also appearing on her face. "Adventurer," he continued ruefully. "This...daredevil, a madman. _The Doctor_, I was called. And last night I dreamt that you were there, as my... companion." Rose came to a small stop, her eyes caught by him and he threw her a knowing glance. "Yes, I know how that sounds. It sounds-"

"It sounds wonderful," she said under her breath, and she quickly turned back toward the curtains, a hand lifting to nudge one awkwardly as he snapped his head to look at her. "Wonderful…is all…" And she shrugged.

"It sounds ludicrous," he corrected her.

She glanced at him quickly once more, her hand dropping away from the curtain. "Yes. Well. A teacher and a maid. O' course," she said with a small nod and she left the windows to float back over to the tray on the table.

"Well," he said quickly, aware that her smile had faded as he had spoken. He continued on hurriedly, "I'm a man…from another world though…" And he swept around her as she set about fixing his tea, hovering beside the fireplace at her back.

"'s no such thing," she mumbled with a shrug, her attention on the tray.

"And this here," he added, waiting for her as she glanced at the item he had swiped off the fireplace mantel and now held. Her eyes fixed on it, her frame stiffening imperceptibly as he waved the fob watch at her, as he then examined it closely himself, eyes narrowing. "The watch…"

Rose waited, looking from the watch to John Smith as he studied the watch critically.

And then, with a sigh, he set the fob watch on the mantel once more, a corner of his mouth turning down in a thoughtful frown. "Ah, it's funny how dreams slip away," he said almost wistfully. "But I do remember one thing. It all took place in the future. In the year of Our Lord two thousand and eight."

With a wavering smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes even though he wished it would with all his might, Rose lifted the morning paper out to him. "I got you there, then," she said to him quietly. "It's Monday, November 10th, 1913. And you are completely human."

He accepted the paper from her, gauged her smile as she looked at him and then went back to his tea. "Yes, I suppose that is me. Completely human." And he nodded.

* * *

Next Chapter – Chapter Seventeen: Just a Dream

It was lovely. Bound in dark leather, several pages thoroughly used, she allowed her fingertips to pass over almost illegible handwriting, her Doctor's handwriting. And gazing at the pen script blindly, she felt tears begin to rise in her eyes. She missed him. She missed her Doctor so much that it was almost heartbreaking and this John Smith was much too human, much too different from his alter ego. Hesitating for a long moment, not seeing anything on the page through blurred vision, she breathed in deeply to compose herself, to force herself back to the current moment. And to not think of all the worlds she wasn't discovering as they sat there in hiding.


	18. Just a Dream

**Chapter Seventeen – Just a Dream:**

He was a teacher at Farringham School. He loved teaching. He was good at it. It had been two months since he had come to the school and he much preferred it to the other places he had previously taught. Looking about as he wandered the school halls, books piled high in his arms, he nodded to the Headmaster as he passed him and barely managed to dodge out of the way of a younger blond student. "Head up, Mr. Latimer."

The blond boy instantly raised his head shyly, ducking it again a moment later at being reprimanded. "Yes, sir. Begging your pardon, Mr. Smith." And he quickened his step, darting down the hallway.

With an inward sigh, he managed a small smile at his maid as he brushed past her in the hall. She scrubbed the floors with another maid, but he realized with an inner flutter that while she had a smile for her partner, she had a secret smile for him. And only him, he had come to understand not long after he had arrived. She always had a smile for him that she did not share with anyone else. It made him walk lighter, almost float up the stairs.

As such he did not see the matron until he had promptly bumped into her on the second landing. The top book sliding off the pile, he gave her a smile as she retrieved it for him from the floor. "Ah, thank you, matron. Head in the clouds again, as I'm wont to be," he quipped.

"Nurse, please," she said to him courteously. "Or Joan, even. Matron makes me feel…well, matronly. And it's John, correct?" she asked. And she motioned to his stack of books quickly. "May I? You seem to be-"

"Yes, of course," he stammered, throwing her a relieved smile as she took half his pile of books. "I was just taking them-"

"Which way?" she asked over him, her cheeks reddening and he realized he also was beginning to flush in embarrassment.

"This…this way," he motioned with a tilt of his head and he allowed her to lead, falling into step behind her. "Thank you, again. For the help."

She threw him a glance over her shoulder. "Not at all. I was heading this way as it-" And she paused in the corridor, her eyes catching on a notice attached to the wall. "John, have you seen this? The annual dance at the village hall in a week. It's nothing formal but rather fun by all accounts. Do you think you'll go?"

He stared at the notice under her finger, his lips moving yet no words coming out. "Well…" he began, his thoughts flying away from him. "I thought I would…well, you see because…but even if I don't…

"It's been ages since I've been to a dance," she was continuing, looking toward him shyly. "Only, no one's asked me yet…"

He had taken a step back as she had begun and now he took another, thoughts racing past him much too quickly for him to grasp one and force it out coherently. "I don't see why no one…because you really are…well, you've never seemed the type to…not that you shouldn't! Not at all! I rather think you should-"

"The stairs," she said to him, her eyes now wide and intent.

"Beg your pardon?" he asked her, cutting off his rambling.

"The stairs are right-" And a moment later she closed her eyes and bit down on the inside of her cheeks as his foot no longer met floor. Books flying from his hands he tumbled backward down the stairs, leaving the nurse to trail after him with a wince on her face.

* * *

"What happened?" his maid demanded, bursting into his room frantically.

He looked up from where he was allowing the nurse to administer to him and a smile broke over his face, his lips parting to speak.

"Excuse me, Rose. It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking," Joan stated firmly, turning her attention from the back of John's head to admonish Rose.

Rose gave her a flat look before rolling her eyes. "You are absolutely right. How daft was that of me?" she apologized. "But, really now. Is he all right?" And looking at him, her expression shifting to one of worry she asked, "They said you fell down the stairs."

"Oh, it was just a small tumble, nothing to worry yourself over," he replied although he flashed a cheerfully wide grin at her.

Rose gave him a relieved smile. "Well, all the same, you should let her finish having a look at you. I'll just tidy up the room in the meantime…" And she looked about, her hands lifting to the front of her apron as she surveyed the room with a critical eye, uncertain where to begin.

"I was just telling Nurse Redfern, er, Matron, that I feel perfectly fine. It really was a silly little tumble, nothing more-" He continued and he tossed the matron a smile as she seemed to finish up. "All done then?"

"Yes, just," she replied, her eyes sliding over toward Rose who had moved to John's bed and was setting about making it.

"Well, good! Right then," he said to her and he rose, bringing Joan back a bit at his sudden full height. "Perhaps just a small nap then? I'm feeling a bit knackered after everything-"

"Oh no, you don't want to nap," Rose said quickly, glancing toward him. "You hit your head, have you gone mad? What if you go to sleep and never wake up? I'll be in trouble then, I can just see it already-"

"He doesn't have a concussion, he's perfectly fine," Joan cut her off and looked from Rose to John who was trying his best to hide a smile but failing miserably. Opening her mouth to speak, to question what exactly their relationship was about, she instead clamped her mouth shut. It was not her place although she would pull aside John Smith if things got much too far out of hand. "Well, whatever the case, you are absolutely fine, John. A bit of whining never did anyone any good." And with that she nodded to him, cast one last look at Rose who returned a glowering glance, and bid them good day.

The moment she was out the door Rose came close to John, her eyes wide. "She's like a hawk, she is! Got her claws in you like you were a piece of bloody red meat! Oh, if she knew exactly how you-"

John stared at her, his lips parted around a half smile. And quickly composing himself, he said sternly, cutting her off in mid-sentence, "I'll not have you talk that way about Nurse Redfern, Rose. It's rude and you should remember your place."

Rose returned his stare, incredulous. "Her?" she asked, gesturing back the way the nurse had left. "Um, yeah, ok," she said with what sounded close to a cackle as she turned around and went back toward his bed. And under her breath she murmured, "Of all your little _rules_ you didn't once mention anything about me not smacking you a good one for talking to me like that…"

"What was that you said?" he asked her in disbelief.

She turned an innocent smile on him. "Hmm?" she asked as she lifted his sheet and shook it out. And she turned back around, focusing on making the bed silently.

He didn't have the slightest idea what to make of the girl, ever. She had been just this way before they had come to this school. Where she had grown up, where she had gotten her education to mouth off the way she did, he would never know. With a sigh, pushing away the thought, he plopped back down in the chair and closed his eyes for a moment, a hand lifting to the bridge of his nose.

"Oi! No sleeping over there."

He squeezed an eye open at her as she tucked in the pillows, her attention still on the bed. Closing the eye once more he allowed his head to fall back a bit, breathing past the dull throb at the back of his head. He had fallen straight down the stairs, heavy like a sack of coals and was surprised he hadn't further done himself in. All gangly limbs and downright clumsiness sometimes, he didn't know what to make of his own body half the time. His mind on the other hand was brilliant.

"So, are you going to tell me about the dream then?" Rose asked and she suddenly seemed closer than she had been a second ago.

His eyes came open past his hand and she was standing beside him, clearing up the remaining dishes of his breakfast, setting everything back on the tray. "Do you really want to hear of such nonsense?" he asked her quietly, his hand falling away to allow him to merely gaze at her wearily as she set about her task. "Don't you find it all a bit fanciful? All the things I tell you I dream of?"

She pursed her lips, her eyes on her work. "Not one bit. I enjoy it very much, to be honest. My own imagination isn't exactly…as creative, I guess. I'd kind of like seeing what your imagination is all about."

He paused, studying her intently. "I've actually heard that dreams are signs your body sends you for you to deal with something in your waking life. Isn't that silly?"

Hesitating, her hands floating down to rest on the tray, her lips curled downward a bit at the corner. Shrugging her shoulders slightly she said, "Not silly, no. There are many things out there, Mr. Smith. Things you and I…couldn't possibly believe. But they're there. Out there. All over."

Staring at her, shifting in his seat to look up at her earnestly, he asked softly, "Do you really believe that?" And he wanted her to believe it, wanted her to convince _him_ to believe it. Because there had to be so much more than this world with its strict rules that would never allow anything to happen between a teacher and a maid.

The thought made him recoil, his jaw falling open and Rose noticed it, her eyes sliding toward him for a brisk moment before she began to clean up the small table the tray rested on intently. "Yeah, well…" she sighed. "So are you going to tell me or what?"

Her coarse tone brought him back to earth. "Yes. Of course. It's silly, still, but-"

"Tell me."

Looking at her once more, his face composing, he thought back to his dreams, his eyes shifting to the side, mouth opening. "I dream that I'm running…that I'm hiding…from something," he said to her.

She paused in her cleaning and looked down at him silently, eyes blank.

Reading the expression and confused slightly by it, he continued, now in a softer tone. "I dream…that I have two hearts. I dream of that…many times."

Her expression saddening inexplicably, his maid turned to face him, her hand curling as if to lift toward him.

"Isn't that…" he began to ask, his voice fading away as she gazed at him.

"I think it's wonderful," she said faintly, her expression a confusion to him. As if she too wanted it to be real. But two hearts. How real could two hearts in one form be?

His lips parted, his frame rigid, he asked her, "Wonderful? To have two hearts?"

Her eyes sliding sideways, she laughed, "Yeah." But as quickly as her laughter had come over her it was gone, only to be replaced with an expression akin to grief. She did not bring her eyes back to him, her lips tightening into a firm line, her posture one of awkwardness.

Sensing it he said quickly, "I keep a book. A journal, if you will. A journal in which I write down these dreams, these dreams I have every night-"

"Every night?" Rose asked him, still refusing to look at him.

He pulled back a bit. He hadn't meant to say that. The last thing he wanted at this new place of employment was to be seen as daft or mad. "Well, almost…almost every night. But I've filled a few pages. I happen to think it's more of…of a hobby…of mine-"

"Can I see it?" she asked him. And immediately upon asking she ducked her head to look blindly at the tray beside her.

Mouth moving, no words coming out at her question, he hesitated before quickly responding, "Of course. Let me fetch it for you-"

"I'll get it," she said to him, facing away and looking about the room. "You just tell me where it is and I'll-"

"Oh, yes, thank you. It's over on that desk there…" he motioned and she moved toward it, her hand lifting to shift several items aside. "The leather bound…yes, exactly."

Lifting the small book into her hand, Rose glanced at him where he sat still and his expression was one of fondness at the item she held. Fighting a small smile she came back toward him and as she neared his eyes lifted from the book in her hand to her eyes.

"Go on," he prodded.

Smiling fully now she leaned against the small table beside him and opened it gingerly. And her jaw fell open as she examined the small book, as she held it carefully.

It was lovely. Bound in dark leather, several pages thoroughly used, she allowed her fingertips to pass over almost illegible handwriting, her Doctor's handwriting. And gazing at the pen script blindly, she felt tears begin to rise in her eyes. She missed him. She missed her Doctor so much that it was almost heartbreaking and this John Smith was much too human, much too different from his alter ego. Hesitating for a long moment, not seeing anything on the page through blurred vision, she breathed in deeply to compose herself, to force herself back to the current moment. And to not think of all the worlds she wasn't discovering as they sat there in hiding.

"What is it?" he asked her softly, his deep voice almost a gentle rumble that made her insides clench. It was her Doctor's voice. Her Doctor's scent that reached her, of earth and that strange breath that reminded her of Time. And she fought against her first instinct to look at him upon being washed with the presence that was all her Doctor's. She couldn't bring herself to look at him just yet, her rapidly-blinking eyes still suspiciously wet with tears. Swallowing deeply to stall, her frame straightening, she forced herself to blink away the remainder of her tears. And doing so, she threw him a quick glance and strained smile, turning immediately back to the book in her hands.

"It's nothing," she replied, inhaling deeply once more and widening her eyes with hurried blinks. Her composure wouldn't hold up if he continued to-

His fingers wrapped around one of her hands, entwining with her own and pulling it away from the book. Feeling a shiver race down her spine, she held the leather-bound journal with her other hand and looked down at him wordlessly.

His eyes were soft, fixed on hers silently. And as they stared at each other in the quiet she realized that he was still there, her Doctor. Beneath the exterior of the bookworm schoolteacher, the Doctor was peering out, even if John Smith was unaware of it himself. The same wild hair, the same set to his mouth. The same hidden sorrow in those old eyes. Swallowing almost convulsively, Rose stared at him, her eyes floating over his every feature blindly.

_I want my Doctor back._

"Go on," he prodded her once more, motioning to the book in her other hand but refusing to release her hand.

And she didn't know how to feel about that. About any of it. His hand surrounding hers was warm, supportive. But there was an air about them that felt off. As if John Smith understood that there was something improper in holding a maid's hand but the Doctor himself would be damned if told he wasn't allowed to hold Rose Tyler's hand. She dropped her eyes to their joined grasp and John hesitated momentarily, his eyes also caught there. And then, almost reluctantly, he trailed his thumb across the tender skin of her palm, leading from her wrist to the joint of her thumb. She bit back the shudder that threatened to run over her at the caress, her lips parting, her eyes trapped to his fingers. Her Doctor's fingers. Her Doctor's hand.

Not her Doctor's touch.

At the thought she dragged her eyes back to John's face and he also quickly brought his gaze back to her, wordless, although his mouth was parted slightly.

_"Journal of Impossible Things."_

The voice that stated it was soft, feminine and eager. And had not been her own. Rose tore her eyes away from John Smith and beside her was the Matron suddenly, clasping a leather-bound book in her own grasp. Rose's eyes dropped to the Matron's hands, her heart clenching at the sight and she quickly looked back toward John beside her. John, who still held her hand, who still ran his thumb along the side of her palm.

"What is it?" came his voice from far away, somehow.

Twisting her head back toward the Matron on her other side, Rose stared blindly, words caught in her suddenly tight throat. She had half a mind to ask John if he saw what she was seeing but how could she explain it to him, make him understand when not even she understood what was going on anymore? And this man beside her was not her Doctor. He was John Smith, human. Not Time Lord.

_"Just look at these creatures!"_ came the Matron's voice in delight and Rose watched her as she looked through her book, running her fingers over the ink. Tilting her head a bit, staring in confusion, she realized that it was the same book they held, Rose and the Matron. The same book. She closed the cover of the book over her fingers to hold her spot and sure enough, across the inside cover was the title, Journal of Impossible Things. She inhaled to calm her racing heart, her eyes caught on the words.

"Rose, what is it?"

Ignoring John's worried question she looked back toward the Nurse as the woman pored eagerly through the leather-bound journal, almost hungrily devouring the entries, the sketches and drawings. All of it. That wasn't hers to see, came the irrational argument deep in the back of her head. Rose lifted her gaze back to the matron's face, anger rising and mixing with such deep confusion. Confusion at seeing someone else, confusion at the nurse's encroachment on a moment that should have been all her own. The book was for her to see, not the Nurse.

_"Quite an eye for the pretty girls,"_ the Matron murmured a moment later.

Frowning slightly, once more passing over John's questions on her other side, Rose's eyes dropped to the book in the Nurse's hands as she turned the book slightly. And her heart came to a dead stop upon seeing the drawing in the journal. Frantic, pulling her hand from John's distractedly, she drew closer to the figure of the Matron, her hand curling around her own version of the journal in her grasp.

The sketch was of her. Her own face, half drawn haphazardly with a pen but still her, still lovely to gaze at. She felt her breath begin to quicken, her fingers clawing around the leather-bound journal in her own hand. There was scrawl all around the sketch of her in the book the Matron was sifting through, her Doctor's writing, messy but oh so beautiful and she read it blindly, anxiously.

_In my dream she keeps walking away._

She stared at the sketch of herself, of the writing all around her half-drawn face. The same phrase, across her face. A secret peering out of the one eye John Smith had put down on paper, her sketch's eye. The girl in the drawing knew a secret, something she herself didn't and she felt a fine trembling rise in her frame at the realization.

"Do you see her?" Rose asked John softly, her words almost inaudible.

"Her?" John asked from such a distance away, his tone confused.

She swallowed, quivering. One more vision she didn't understand. One more person living everything she was living. "The Matron. Do you see her?" she asked him again faintly, her heartbeat hitching.

There was a small pause from John Smith before he whispered almost sadly, "I see only you, Rose."

And with his words, his voice running gently under the sound of her racing heart, the Matron suddenly faded away and she was left with only the one journal in her grasp, the presence of John at her side. But his voice, the Doctor's voice, echoed eerily even as she whirled to look back at him. Even as his mouth did not move to speak the words, she heard them as if they haunted her.

"_This character, Rose. I call her Rose…seems to disappear later on…"_

John Smith was gazing at her with wide eyes, studying her intently. Silent and confused but with all his attention on her only. Staring back at him, her heart still racing, beating furiously, she could only maintain her gaze. She couldn't explain it, whatever it was that was going on. And the one person who would be able to understand it was currently masquerading as a human to avoid being found and captured by the creatures that had been chasing them two months earlier. The Doctor would have understood. He would have rationalized everything that was going on, would have come up with a solid answer to all her questions. If he had still been the Doctor. And if she had only been able to tell him everything that was happening to her.

"I…" she whispered numbly, softly.

"Doesn't matter," John Smith said to her just as quietly as he searched her face for answers. And the sound of her Doctor's voice repeating her Doctor's words but from the shell of a human. It threatened to break her apart at her seams, her fingers instinctively curling tightly around the edges of the journal possessively. As if he had somehow threatened the well-being of the leather-bound book. He nodded at the book in her grasp, his face the slightest bit pale. "Go on, then. Have a gander."

Dumbly, looking down at the journal in her hands, Rose uncurled her fingers from the edges, her heart finally beginning to slow. It was the same book the Matron had held in her hands, the same title on the inside. And her fingers were trembling as she began to sift through the pages once more, feeling the impression of his writing against her fingertips.

"It's wonderful," she uttered in a weak voice and a moment later she cleared her throat, forcing herself to still her trembling.

He dropped his gaze from her to the pages in her fingers. "I've never shown that to anyone," he said softly, thoughtfully.

Inhaling deeply, swallowing firmly, she allowed herself to focus on the images and the sketches, the writing. And as she looked through it she realized, a shiver racing through her spine, that the inside of the journal she held was different from the Matron's journal. There was no sketch of herself, no writing along her face. There was a sketch of the very familiar face of Martha Jones. Of Donna Noble. She hesitated on their sketches, her fingers tightening, almost cramping. "Who…um, who are these women?" she asked him, feigning a comfortably curious tone even as she struggled to fight the urge to rip the journal apart. She hadn't seen the faces of Martha and Donna in the little she had seen of the Matron's volume.

John Smith tilted his head a bit and she quickly turned the book for him to get a better look. "Ah, yes. I honestly don't know. Faces appear in my dreams. That would be Martha," he motioned to the sketch of Martha Jones. "A dark woman, dark skin. Reminds me a bit of you, actually, the way she speaks. The way she holds herself. Strange sense of fashion, if I remember correctly. I don't…" he shook his head, frowning slightly. "She seems to care…immensely for my well-being but I don't…" he broke off.

Rose inhaled, attempting to control her expressions. "And this one?"

John's lips tightened into a firm line. "Donna, I believe. Yes. I believe her name is Donna. Another woman, another dream. Peculiar. She's most offensive, her crude manner. Insulting at times, to be sure."

Rose fought the smile that threatened to curl her lips. How strange to want to smile when the world seemed to be caving in on itself. Running her fingers over the face of Donna Noble, she hesitated before asking, "How do you know their names?"

He also paused for a long moment, blinking at the question, his eyes caught on her fingers over the pages of his journal. "I don't know. I believe they tell me their names in the dreams but I can't remember incidents. Only their names come to me. And my dreams…they…"

Rose paused on a page with the sketch of the TARDIS and she felt her breath catch squarely in her throat.

"Ah, the blue box!" John cried, causing her to jump slightly. With an apologetic look he motioned with a slender index finger. "That blue box, I have seen it many times. That box…takes me to many places. Magical…places." His voice fell a bit in what seemed to be embarrassment as she looked at him but she smiled for him gently. "Like a magic carpet…if you will."

"Yeah," Rose laughed softly, nodding to herself. "That's exactly what it's like."

"Beg your pardon?" he asked her curiously.

Glancing at him, her smile still broadening, she suddenly realized what she had just said and her mouth curled into an o, her eyes widening. "Um, I mean…yes, that's what it would seem to be then. If it takes you to magical places. Exactly like a…magic carpet…" She lowered her head to the journal once more, wincing inwardly.

_I want my Doctor back._

She'd had that same thought numerous times in the last two months. Over and over in the silence of her cramped sleeping quarters. She had closed her eyes in the night and had breathed deeply, hoping to catch the scent of earth and time, to catch moonlight in the darkness of that silence. She had prayed for her Doctor to awaken in the human John Smith and had even dreamt that he would come for her and take her away in the TARDIS. She rarely had a chance to visit the blue box herself, stored away in a barn, in darkness. But in the night, when she prayed and dreamed, it was almost as if this entire ordeal was the dream, and her dreams reality.

_I want my Doctor back._

"I wonder sometimes…" John was murmuring softly, his eyes once more on her fingers as they hesitated over the pages of his journal. "How magical life would be if things like that were true." And there was a heavy sorrow in his tones, hidden in the darkness of his eyes as he stared blindly.

Turning the page, her own heart feeling just as weighed down by all the things she knew yet could not tell him, Rose came to a stop on one page, her gaze caught on the sketch. The sonic screwdriver, drawn there messily, but familiar nonetheless. She ran a finger over its slim sketch, her eyes sliding toward its opposite page to hover over drawings of keys. Very familiar keys. The keys to the TARDIS. One hung around her neck, under her uniform, seeming to almost burn her skin as she stared at the drawings. And then, turning the page, ripping her eyes from the keys she encountered the sketch of the fob watch, there in the book. A drawing of the fob watch that had somehow played such a crucial part in their current situation.

"If only," she whispered, more to herself than to him, her eyes caught on the sketch solemnly.

He fell quiet with her, his head bowing. "It's just a dream."

* * *

**Next Chapter -****Chapter Eighteen – A Drink and a Run:**

Even as she wished it she took it all back. As each word, each sentence, formed in her mind, she instantly bit them back and shoved them to the back of her head. There was a plan to follow, lives that had to be spared. Their own, namely. She couldn't have him remember.

But she couldn't bloody _forget._

And as she went to tell him to forget her words, as she lifted her head, she realized just how late she was. She felt a soft gasp break from her and then he was before her, his hat falling away into the background, his fingers taking hold of her waist and pulling her forward almost roughly. She staggered into him, her hands lifting to press against his chest and she was aware of the feel of his coat under her palms before he dragged her into his kiss.


	19. A Drink and a Run

**A/N: **Hey, I'm a bit late with this one, sorry guys. Have fun! :)

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**Chapter Eighteen – A Drink and a Run:**

It had been several days since John had given her the journal to pore through. Several days before it all began to come together. Not the confusion of John Smith's dreams, nor the explanations concerning why he would dream of people he had never met, but the conclusion to their plight. In her moments of silence, her free time, she had delved into the book without rest, looking hopelessly for the sketches of her own face, the hidden words that hinted of unknown secrets. Why was she seeing these people caught in the same situations as herself? What did John Smith know that the Doctor did not? Or did the Doctor indeed know things he was not letting on about? Had he always known about Martha Jones and Donna Noble then? Since the incident at the hospital with the Judoon on the moon, had he known things since then?

Rose looked down at the pint she held between her gloved hands, her dark eyes lifting back toward the moon. There was something wrong here, worse than the creatures that searched for them. There was something amiss concerning her, concerning her return. She just didn't understand what, and she didn't comprehend all the incidents that occurred all around her. She slouched a bit on the hard wood of the bench, aware of the noise wafting out of the pub but she couldn't be bothered with it, couldn't be made to care. If there was a problem with her coming back to this world there would have been reapers, _something_. The timeline demanded to be followed correctly, there were creatures to ensure it. But here there was nothing. Being here, waiting out the monsters that hunted them, she was _supposed_ to be here. She just had to wait for it all to blow over, for her Doctor to come back to himself. For their pursuers to die out. Three months, he had said. All she had to do was wait three months, hidden away from them. Two months had already passed, there was so little time left before her Doctor came back for her.

"May I join you?"

The request was made softly, the gentle voice familiar. Fighting the sweet smile that threatened to break out over her face she instead lifted her eyes to the figure of the Doctor, hesitant beside her. He also clutched a pint, clothed for the cold season that they were entering in a long coat.

"Out here, Mr. Smith?" she asked him quietly, smiling faintly. "…'s warmer in the pub." She motioned back to the doorway with her thumb, a casual gesture.

He pursed his lips a moment, glancing back toward the door of the pub, his hands shifting around the pint he held. "Yes, yes it is," he agreed with a small nod. "But you're out here, not in there. And you are alone. Not exactly how a woman, any woman, should be on a night like this."

Rose stared at him, her lips parted slightly.

A moment later horror crossed his face as he understood how she had taken his words. "No, no, no! I didn't mean it in that sense! Not at all! That was rather forward, I admit, but it wasn't…or rather, I meant to say…after all, a teacher and a maid…not at all…" And now he seemed uncomfortable, glancing back toward the pub as if there waited his means of escape.

Rose blinked at his change, her eyes also darting back toward the pub. This was not her Doctor. Her Doctor would never have cared for such things. She held her breath silently, bowing her head as irrational anger sparked inside her. "It's all right. You don't have to join me, I'm fine. Really."

John Smith looked down at her for a long minute awkwardly, silently.

Biting on the inside of her cheek and turning her head away from him for a moment, she closed her eyes wearily. She didn't want to keep thinking of her Doctor. Didn't want to keep thinking of how badly she wanted to just go back to the way things were. All those months in the alternate world, it was that all over again here and now. That separation had haunted her in that alternate universe. And here it was the same. To see him and know that he did not recognize her for who she was.

It was like being a maid to a complete stranger. And she couldn't bear it.

"I bid you good night then, Rose," John said softly from behind her, his clothes rustling in the silence as he shifted to leave.

Rose whirled instantly on the bench, pain flitting across her face. The gesture was mindless yet necessary to her, her hands clutching the pint that much more tightly. "Please-"

John hesitated, pausing at the doorway to the pub.

She gazed at him sadly, her shoulders slumping wearily as she just gave in to her loneliness. "Please stay with me. Don't go," she said quietly.

_I don't want you to go anymore._

It was barmy, downright insane to want to cry. But as she stared at him, as he returned her gaze with sadness entering his own expression, she wanted nothing more than to break down in misery. And he would find it strange if she suddenly began to sob, if she demanded that he stay with her. This wasn't the Doctor. That was the bottom line.

Nonetheless, he seemed to understand as if he was still the Doctor. Silently, floating like a ghost, he wound around her and seated himself a respectable distance to the left of her on the bench. She allowed him, forcing a tight smile as he did so, looking toward him but not directly at him. Now was when it would turn awkward for them, she knew. And they sat for a long moment in silence, hands wrapped around their respective pints, both looking up at the stars in the sky.

Almost like being home. Almost there. But not quite. Even if, just glancing at the Doctor from the corner of her eye, he looked just like him. In the long coat, his straight form leaning backward against the bench, his head bowed, wild hair hidden away under a hat that did nothing to keep away the cold. The Doctor, _her_ Doctor. So close yet so far away from her.

Feeling a watery smile curl her lips slowly, she asked, "What do you think it's like out there?"

Lifting his head a bit at her side, John looked up at the dark night, his eyes trailing across the stars up above. "Out where?"

Rose lifted a finger away from her pint and pointed at the night sky silently.

For a long moment John was wordless and she almost knew what he was thinking. That his maid had gone completely mad, asking about something none of them could possibly know. To even insinuate that there was something out there-

"I think…it's bound to be better than what we have here," he replied quietly and he bowed his head once more, falling silent.

Rose paused and looked at him mutely, her eyes alighting on him and then trailing down his frame blindly. Yes. So much like her Doctor even if not entirely him. And it was something, wasn't it? To believe there was something out there? "You think it's all magic carpets then? Magical places?"

He frowned faintly. And she realized a moment later it was due to the way she had brought up something private to him, something he had only shared with her. As if it was something to be dismissed. Ridiculed, almost. She quickly stiffened, reaching out to him thoughtlessly, her fingers wrapping around his arm in comfort. "Because it _is_ like that. Out there? That's exactly what it's like. Magical. Out of this world wonderful."

He didn't look half convinced, an eyebrow arching almost haughtily. "You don't know that, Rose. It's above your-" And he broke off halfway through his sentence into complete silence, shifting uncomfortably.

She stared at him. "Above my what?" she asked him curiously. "Above my intelligence? Above my place? To dream?"

"Not to dream," he said firmly with a curt shake of his head. "Never that." And he swallowed faintly, his eyes drifting down to her hand wrapped around his arm.

She quickly released him, pulling away. Returning her hand back to the pint in her grasp she said haltingly, quietly, "There was a time when you wouldn't have cared if I'd done that." And even as she was saying it, even after she had said it, she knew she shouldn't have but she didn't care then. She was tired of all the lies, of the lie that they were living. This wasn't her life. This was like that alternate world, living the life of someone who had never existed. It wasn't right.

"Was there?" he asked her hoarsely.

And as she looked at him once more, ever hopeful, he set aside his pint on the bench between them. Sitting forward, hunching over his knees, he hesitated for a long moment as she merely stared at him silently. The expression on his face was one she had seen cross the Doctor's own face many times, one she knew well. An expression that said he was debating something, wanted to say or do something that would ultimately be a very bad idea. But an expression that also stated he was ready to risk it. Usually reserved for when he was saving both their lives. And she almost whispered his name at that look on his face, the very first syllables floating across her tongue as he turned to her silently.

Without a word John reached out toward her hands and took the pint from her grasp. She let him, watching him warily as he set her pint down beside his, her eyes never once leaving his face. The expression was there but had shifted now, turning purposeful. He had settled on whatever idea he had been playing with a moment before. Silently, he was rising to his feet, to his full height. Her eyes lifted as he did so, blinking in silent confusion. Yes, that was the expression there. Resigning himself to something. Still wordless, he looked down toward her and reached a hand out, long fingers waiting in the cold.

"Walk with me?" he asked of her softly.

She continued to blink at him in silence, caught off guard for a long moment. "Is that…don't you think…" And she motioned back toward the pub.

"Walk with me," he said again, his fingers straight, waiting for hers.

Still hesitant, mostly reluctant, she looked back over her shoulder toward the pub doorway, thinking furiously. If someone saw them together there would be whispers, rumors. They could possibly let her go from her position for being so familiar with a teacher. Didn't he understand that? And then what would John Smith do? The Doctor could barely take care of himself as a Time Lord. She couldn't fathom how he had gotten on without her for the last nine hundred years, really. And John Smith would, no doubt, be a wreck if she wasn't there to hold him up.

But the Doctor. Just one movement to entwine their fingers and they could walk off together, no one the wiser. It wouldn't be the same as having her Doctor back but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate for one moment, one hour, the company of the man she held dear above everyone else. Just one walk.

Turning her head back to face him, finding him still waiting for her, she lifted her hand and placed it in his firmly. And then he was lifting her to her feet, a small enigmatic smile lifting the corners of his mouth. She saw the Doctor there, mischievous and so very painfully familiar. Trying to stem her own smile from forming but somehow failing miserably, she allowed him to pull her closer to his side and quietly she asked, "Can we run instead?"

Blinking at her question, his lips parting, he answered a moment later barely missing a beat, "Oh, yes." And then, with no further words between them, he pulled her after him as he took off down the dirt road and into the green countryside, into the darkness.

In the night they seemed two wraiths, running as if this was all there was to the world, to their lives. The run and the excitement of something they could not yet see. And Rose marveled in it, thrilled to her very bones as she ran at his side, her hand clutched firmly in his, so tightly. Even if it wasn't the Doctor, wasn't someone she would have known any other way. The presence of John Smith leading her, his very figure in the darkness so reminiscent of her Doctor, was enough to finally allow her to breathe freely. And laugh. She laughed loudly, giggled and cried out as they broke into the woods, branches reaching out for them, scraping them gently as they burst through. But nothing could take her away from the moment, the wonderful feeling of being with her Doctor, running with him. Nothing could have broken how her very form sang at being reunited with that familiarity.

But it was not him. Not just yet.

Grinning widely beside her, John Smith ran as if he would never tire, her hand clutched in his. And this was wrong, for him to enjoy her company, the company of a maid, the way he did. But it was so much more than that. This familiar feeling, of holding his maid's hand, it was so much more than he thought he would feel. As far back as he cared to remember Rose had always been a part of his life in Nottingham. His mother Verity, a nurse, had taken the girl in and had trained her under the other maids of the household. As far back as he understood, Rose had been there, had even been inherited by him when he had left his hometown. But never had he seen her smile and laugh the way she did now at his side.

It made his heart tremble.

"Wait, wait…" Rose called to him and even as she wanted to tell him to never stop, to continue running with her always, she was getting a small stitch in her side. He slowed and then stopped, turning back toward her in the shadows of the woods. Breathing rapidly, a wide grin enveloped the lower half of his face and in the darkness she could almost believe it was her Doctor. Releasing her hand, he reached up and pulled off his hat. His wild hair waved in the gentle breeze as he heaved for a breath and there he was finally. Her breathing was also labored but she didn't know then if it was from the running or from the way he looked, wonderful and familiar and just achingly beautiful in the dark. They stared at each other, his broad smile so very much like the Doctor's and her eyes widening further with each second that his appearance did not refute it.

"It's wonderful to just run like that," he gasped, glancing about at their surroundings and looking flushed from the exertion. "I can't remember the last time I'd done it."

She gazed at him, her lips forming a small o, and she fought to control her breathing. Looking away for an instant she murmured, "I do." And as he brought his eyes back to her she raised hers to meet his head on.

Blinking rapidly, his lean shoulders heaving, he was silent for a long strained moment. As if he wanted to say something to her that had been on his mind for quite a minute. But staring at her she saw the battle within, to voice it or to remain silent. He was fighting it out right there, was revealing glimpses of it in his dark eyes. And then he uttered, "You confound me, Rose. You always have." His voice was soft in the silence of the dark woods, his eyes glinting as shafts of moonlight caught them. The_ Doctor's_ shafts of moonlight.

Her heaving breath hitched in her throat. "Don't say that," she said to him with a shake of her head, her mouth running dry. She couldn't bear to hear those words from him. Not then. Not from John Smith. And not while they were so far from the last time he had said things along those lines to her.

"You always have," he said again and she shook her head once more, backed away a step even as he continued on. "From the beginning, I have found myself…making excuses, accepting you the way you are. Appreciating you, in fact. Your demeanor, your very way. I am in awe of it. Not the behavior a maid should have, to be clear, but something about you-"

"It's like falling in love all over," she whispered, her eyes closing, her head bowing as she echoed his words from a cold night that felt like so long ago. A different world, almost. A park bench. Streetlight. A man in a long coat with wild beautiful hair gazing up at her earnestly as her rising tears had blurred him from her. "It's overwhelming. Like…like being in a daze, while you walk down the street. To be completely in awe of someone…'s the same as being in love." She paused and inhaled deeply, measuring her next words carefully before repeating them back to the person who had once told them to her. "I am amazed by you, every day. I always have been-"

"Even the old me with the big ears," he finished for her, all cheer gone from his face suddenly, having drained away. And he stared at her for a moment, his lips parted in familiar confusion. As if he had said those words once, long ago. In a dream perhaps. Close enough to feel right but too far to grasp in one's hand and hold on to.

"Yeah," she spoke faintly, feeling her voice fail her beyond the one agreement. And she stared at him, willing him to remember more, needing him to remember her beyond her current role as his maid.

_C'mon, Doctor. C'mon. Please. _

Even as she wished it she took it all back. As each word, each sentence, formed in her mind, she instantly bit them back and shoved them to the back of her head. There was a plan to follow, lives that had to be spared. Their own, namely. She couldn't have him remember.

But she couldn't bloody _forget._

And as she went to tell him to forget her words, as she lifted her head, she realized just how late she was. She felt a soft gasp break from her and then he was before her, his hat falling away into the background, his fingers taking hold of her waist and pulling her forward almost roughly. She staggered into him, her hands lifting to press against his chest and she was aware of the feel of his coat under her palms before he dragged her into his kiss.

For the slightest moment she was struck completely dumb, her breath caught in her throat, the feel of his mouth against hers too hot for this cold night. Searing her, almost. She felt a small whimper tangle in her mouth, muffled beneath his own, and his confusing desperation was evident there in his kiss. As if-

He broke from her, heaving for a breath and she couldn't have opened her eyes if she had wanted to. She was surrounded by the scent, the _taste_, of earth and Time. Feeling every muscle in her tighten against her wishes, she lifted her hands to his face, curling her fingers against his cheeks, along the hard bone structure under smooth skin. And he panted against her roughly, unable to catch that elusive breath. In the cold of the night she had never felt more alive, freer in her entire short life. And it was wonderful, so very breathtaking. In her arms, his lips moving against the pad of her thumb, he seemed to want to say something and she pressed her forehead to his, wanting to hear, wanting to catch every syllable, every word. She wanted to hear everything he said, wanted to hear his voice speaking against her cheek. Needed to catch the scent of his breath and be reminded that this was all just a dream that would soon be over.

He had other things on his mind, it seemed. Turning his head a bit, his eyes fluttering open the smallest bit, he gazed at her. She felt his eyes on her, felt his need to question something. But as she dragged her head back from his a bit, distrustful of opening her eyes, he leaned into her once more, cutting her breath from her yet again. And this kiss now was gentle, the barest touch of his lips to hers. As if asking permission.

Permission she just couldn't give.

"I can't," she whispered painfully against his mouth as he leaned yet again, as his fingers on her waist stiffened a fraction. "Wait, wait. I can't-"

He pulled back slightly also, his eyes closed, his breath mingling with hers. In the cold their heat floated like pale clouds of steam, their gasps soft against each other. And his skin burned hers, his fingers trapping her in his grip.

"I can't do this," she said to him faintly, shaking her head slowly even as her hands tightened along his jaw.

_I can't do this to him._

He was hesitant to ask, swallowing inaudibly. "It is because of our standing. Because I'm a teacher and you are my maid."

She felt utter sorrow curl her brow, her eyes clenching shut tightly. "No. No, it's not that. Because that doesn't matter. It never has-"

"Because we can leave here. You and I. We can leave, travel to Gallifrey. It's where my father is from." And he paused as she raised wide eyes to him, searching his own gaze for something, for the slightest reveal that he remembered. He rushed on, needing to convince her now that he seemed to have a promising pause from her. "Or somewhere they've never heard of us, have never known us," he said and his hands left her waist to lift in a frantic gesture, fingers curling around her wrists. She grimaced as he pulled her hands from his face, as he merely gazed at her earnestly. But she shook her head once more, not understanding, bringing him to a tentative stop. "Is it not…is there someone else?"

_No. There isn't anyone else. There's never been anyone else. There will never be anyone else._

"Yes," she whispered. And at his sudden stunned silence she yanked her wrists from his grasp, taking her freedom from him and using it. He merely stared at her as she took a step back from him, her hands stiffening into clenched fists at her sides. "There's someone else."

He swallowed, his jaw working in silence "Is it someone…at the school? Someone…" And he shook his head, a frown crossing his face. As if he didn't want to believe. As if he _didn't_ believe it. And she couldn't blame him. He had known her, in his fabricated human memories, almost his entire adult life. To suddenly spring something like that on him, somehow having hidden it so well, it was impossible to believe.

But she knew better. The relationship between the Doctor and herself…this was not it. As much as she wanted it to be this way, it was not. And once her Doctor was returned to her, she didn't know if he would retain memories of all that had transpired while he had been away. But if he did, she didn't want him to think that she had taken advantage of him. They were best mates, something even stronger than that. She would not betray him in that way. Ever. Clenching her fists tight enough to dig her nails into her palm painfully, she backed away another step even as he took that same step forward.

"I didn't know," he said finally, quietly, halting in his stride.

She shook her head at him, her heart breaking. "It's not you. It's not you at all. You're wonderful, you are. You're just…we're not…" And she sighed, shoulders slumping. "You're just not him."

The words hung in the cold night heavily.

But he straightened after a moment, inhaling deeply and turning away for a thoughtful step. She watched him warily, her eyes following him as he lifted his head toward the shafts of moonlight spilling down on him and she felt her breath strangle in her figure at the sight of him. Her Doctor. Her Time Lord, looking up at the night sky in his long coat, as if questioning the stars. And as he lifted his hands and slid them into the pockets of his coat she turned her head away, feeling the need to cry and scream at the same time. Biting back all sound, she ran instead. Without another word, her head bowing down against her chest, she merely took off. Behind her, she felt him look toward her and call out her name but it wasn't him.

_You are not my Doctor._

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Nineteen: Visiting An Old Friend**

The TARDIS was silent in the night, almost dormant. But as she reached the phone box, her free hand lifting to its familiar wood, Rose almost believed she could feel the thrum of her magic.


	20. Visiting An Old Friend

**A/N: **A short chapter, sorry, but completely necessary for the story to explain some stuff. Enjoy. :)

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**Chapter Nineteen – Visiting an Old Friend:**

He didn't chase after her even though she knew deep down that John Smith would have fallen back on his chivalrous tendencies and followed her. Any other day and he would have escorted her back through the forest straight to her maid quarters. And how would he be tomorrow? She didn't know and as she ran through the woods, the branches no longer gentle as she burst through them, she didn't care. For the moment, for the night, she wanted to be with a friend, someone who knew her well. And if it couldn't be her Doctor it would be the next best thing to having him back.

She didn't know how long she ran but she knew she ran until her lungs burned and until her sides screamed at her. In the cold night, every breath ached and seized her angrily, rigidly attempting to stop her. It seemed the more she ran, the farther away her other life remained. All her other lives. Her mother and father, Mickey, trapped in that alternate world, almost one hundred years in the future. The Doctor, his essence trapped in a fob watch. One more month. Less.

_Just keep running. Keep running and he'll catch up._

Because he loved to run just as much as she did. And as she thought the words, tears rose in her eyes and she couldn't cry then. She barely had enough breath to get past the pain in her side and the block in her lungs. She couldn't bear one more obstacle.

Breaking from the woods, she slid to a sudden stop as she encountered the barn in the moonlight, nestled so far away from the school. The world was quiet save for her harsh breathing, misting like steam in the cold air. But she didn't care. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she went to the barn and pulled open the large wooden door a bit, slipping in as it afforded her a small fit. In the darkness she saw nothing, but the key hanging around her neck, hidden under the maid's uniform, suddenly came to life with heat. She lifted a hand to it, pressed her palm down on its surface through her uniform, and it was a comfort in the cold night.

Further in, toward the back of the barn, the TARDIS was illuminated by the faint moonlight slipping in. Feeling her heavy breath catch once more in her throat at the beautiful vision, Rose moved in toward the back, her hand still pressed to the key under her uniform. The TARDIS was silent in the night, almost dormant. But as she reached the phone box, her free hand lifting to its familiar wood, Rose almost believed she could feel the thrum of her magic.

"Hello," she whispered softly and she allowed a small smile to curl her lips.

The TARDIS remained silent.

Stepping to the door, Rose pulled out the key from under her uniform and inserted it, turning it and quickly letting herself in. Shutting the door behind her she merely pressed her frame to it and inhaled her first clear breath since running from John Smith. The TARDIS was quiet, the core of the console throbbing with a weak glow. As she pulled away from the door and walked up the ramp, the phone box slowly came to life, lights following her step as she approached the console. Not all of her recognizable controls lit up but enough of them did for Rose to find her way to the console. With a small twinge of relief, she trailed her fingers across the controls of the console, relishing in the feel of familiarity. "I missed you," she let the TARDIS know quietly and the core thrummed in what she could only describe as pure pleasure. She chuckled softly as she rounded the console. "I'm sorry I don't visit too often. Gotta keep an eye on him. You know how he is. Head in the clouds, that one." And she faltered a bit. "Both of them."

The TARDIS fell silent once more.

Coming upon the dormant screen of the console, Rose turned it toward her and then sighed at finding it turned off. "Right. I know." She closed her eyes, bowing her head as she remembered.

_"Did they see you?" _

She tilted her head away as she heard his words run through her mind once more, as she went back to that day almost two months earlier. Running from those creatures, hiding. _Hiding._

_"They're following us. __He's got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator, on his hand. Didn't you see it? They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe-"_ He had come to a stop, his lips moving but no sound coming out. _"They're never going to stop."_

Grimacing, remembering the way his face had fallen at his own words, she felt the initial fear that had clutched her that day rise once more. She opened her eyes slowly, training them blindly on the console and even as she ran them over the controls, she couldn't force herself to see them before her.

_"You trust me, Rose." _

Yes, she had. She still did.

_"It all depends on you. Take this watch, Rose, because my life depends on it."_ His face had been so serious, so painfully frightening at that moment. _"This watch,"_ he had said once more and his voice had been frantic as he had waved the fob watch at her. _"This watch is me."_

She had taken it from him, making her usual snide remarks on the side even as he had run off to tend to other things. As she had followed him with her eyes, the watch clutched in her hand, she had called after him, _"Oi! What are you on about-"_

_"Those creatures,"_ he had explained as he had run around the console in his usual tireless fashion. _"They're hunters. They can sniff out their prey. And as a Time Lord, well, I'm unique. Different from you. They can track me down across the whole of space and time. But…" _And he'd flicked a switch, snapping his head up to look at her and then lift further toward the ceiling of the TARDIS. _"They haven't seen my face. Those creatures jump from body to body but their life span has to be running out about now. Those bodies they inhabited back there aren't their real forms. They were stolen from the actual royal family of the Boran colony. We just have to wait them out, that's all-"_

She had looked up with him as a strange helmet had lowered from the ceiling of the TARDIS, long wires hanging from it like tentacles. She had stared at it as if it had been another alien and she had turned to him as he had reached up and taken the helmet into his grasp. _"W-what is that?"_

He'd stared at the helmet for a long moment, his jaw clenching. Pondering. And then he had looked at her intently, his long fingers bent rigidly, his knuckles a clear white. _"I have to do this. I have to stop being a Time Lord. I'm going to become human-"_

_"What?"_ she had asked him, her jaw falling open. And she had shaken her head, waving off his explanation for a moment. _"H-hold on. Make sense, will you?"_

_"Never thought I'd use this." H_e had been musing clear over her demands, the corner of his mouth turning down slightly. _"I've always wondered-"_

_"What the hell is that thing?"_ she had fairly shrieked then.

He had snapped back to attention. _"Chameleon Arch. Rewrites my biology. Literally changes every cell of my body-"_

_"Doctor…"_ Exasperation had begun to win out. Exasperation tinged with the slightest bit of hysteria.

_"I have it set to human,"_ he had gone on to explain. And he had taken the watch back from her, yanking it out of her grip, and she had been too befuddled to even argue at his rudeness. Coming back to the helmet, he had snapped it into place in a small section of the helmet and had hesitated for a moment, gripping the helmet tightly. _"The TARDIS will handle everything, invent a life story for me, find me a setting, integrate me. Won't do the same for you, I'm afraid, you'll just have to work around me, but I should have enough residual awareness to let you in, nothing to worry about there-"_

_"Stop it,"_ she had whispered weakly as he had rambled on, staring blindly at the helmet in his hands.

"Stop it," she said now, her fingers clutching dormant controls in a grip that could have bent metal. And she hunched over the console, seeing it all happen in her head, remembering the sounds of his screams as he had allowed the helmet to rewrite his entire alien biology. She hadn't been able to stop him, hadn't even known what to do. She had only been able to watch as he had cried out in pain, as he had writhed, scream after scream. And she had curled into a ball beside the console, her back pressed to the jump seat, hidden behind her hands as he had gone through with it. Even now his screams haunted her, woke her sometimes in the middle of a silent night.

Flipping a few controls on the console of the TARDIS numbly, she watched as the monitor came to life. And a weary smile curled her lips as an image of the Doctor appeared onscreen, his eyes wide behind his useless glasses, his expression ever thoughtful.

"This thing on, then?" he asked the camera, tapping something off screen. He sat back, straightening his tie and running a hand through his wild hair momentarily. "Ok, Rose. Instructions. Grab a pen if you need, I'll try to speed through it. Shouldn't be too much."

She snorted with a shake of her head and then slowly settled on the jump seat tiredly, leaning toward the monitor still. Just to be closer to him. Any chance she got.

"Ok, number one! Don't let me hurt anyone. Got that so far? Not anyone," his taped image said with a condescending point of his finger at her, as if he could see her through the screen. "I hope you're writing this down."

"Oh, for the love of-" she hissed.

"Two! Don't worry about the TARDIS. Going to leave her on emergency power, keep her under their radar. Just leave her to hide away for the time being." He held up three fingers then, staring out at her. "C! Or is it number three? Ah, well. No getting involved in historical events. Although we should be ok with that one, none of them here involve you. Can't have a recap of what happened that one time with your dad-"

"Every chance!" she growled at him, throwing her hands up in the air. "Every chance you get, you bring that up!"

"Yes, every chance," he replied, causing her to snap back to look at him in dumbfounded disbelief, her eyes caught on the screen. And she saw him smiling there, an eyebrow arched mischievously. "I know exactly what you're thinking, Rose Tyler, and I'll have none of it right now! Important stuff here, pay attention!"

She shook her head at him, a smirk curling her lips.

"Number four. You." And his voice softened slightly, causing her to stare at his image with wide eyes. "Don't let me abandon you, Rose. Whatever happens, don't let me-"

She reached out and turned the small dial on the console, closing her eyes. She didn't want to hear that from him at that moment. The softness to his voice and the gentle look in his eyes reminded her too much of John Smith. And as she forwarded through his entire message she stared blindly, her lip trembling as she thought it. Would she never be able to take a gentle look from him again? Would she be reminded of John Smith whenever she and her Doctor shared a soft moment from then on?

Would things even be ok between her and the Doctor once they came out of all this?

"And last but not least," came his voice once more as she played the recording again, her hand shaking slightly. "If they find us, if anything goes wrong, you know what to do, Rose." And his face was firm, his jaw set. "Open the watch."

The fob watch that was currently in John Smith's quarters.

"Everything I am is in that watch," the Doctor was saying onscreen, his expression adamant. "There's a perception filter on it, same as the TARDIS key. I can't have human me thinking it's anything more than a watch. But don't open it unless you absolutely _have_ to. Once it's open the Family will be able to find me-"

The Family. Those creatures chasing after them, the ones that had forced them into the situation they were currently in.

"So it's up to you to decide what's important in the end." He sat back in the recording, pushing his glasses back up his nose with the motion. "Well, I think that about covers it! See you in three months!" And then, as he reached for the monitor once more to stop his recording, he paused and smiled, looking out at her from the screen. "And thank you."

Rose's responding smile was directed at a blank monitor as he shut off the recording. "Yeah."

Three months. Two down. One to go.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Chapter Twenty: An Arrangement**

She wanted the Doctor to be there suddenly just so she could ask him and receive an answer. An answer as to why John Smith would be head over heels for her but not the Doctor. Especially if they were the same person. But that was just the issue, wasn't it? They weren't the same person. In fact they were two completely different people.


	21. An Arrangement

**A/N: Sorry, folks. Busy, busy. But here's the next one. :)**

**Chapter Twenty: An Arrangement**

The next day found Rose not in the slightest of cheery moods. Holding the edge of the tray in the crook of her arm and balanced out by her palm, she lifted a reluctant hand to the door of John's quarters and hesitated. She couldn't _not_ bring him breakfast, for bloody sake. But she just couldn't bring herself to knock on the door, much less turn the knob and push it open. As such, she remained in her same spot, biting on her lip and staring blindly at the J. Smith engraving on his door.

What was she going to say to the man? "Sorry about running out on you like that…" she whispered inwardly, wincing already. "…'s just that…you don't kiss me. Ever. And I can't…not that I mind. Because I don't…I mean…was a great kiss…and I can't…_get it out of my head!"_ She growled loudly, clapping her hand down on the top of her head in exasperation. She wasn't going to be able to do it. Would he notice if she didn't bring him breakfast? Oh, of course he would-

The door suddenly flew open on her and she snapped her head up, her jaw dropping open as John appeared in the doorway, his eyes caught on her.

"Good morning!" she cried at him much too loudly and, bowing her head as she did so, she instantly swept past his tall figure and into the room, practically running. "I brought you breakfast! As usual. Right. Right!" She set the tray down on his desk and tremblingly began to prepare his tea for him.

"How long were you outside?" he asked from the doorway and she didn't have to look toward him to know that he was musing over it absentmindedly, still peeking out the door.

She shrugged, pouring the hot water into the teacup. "A minute? Less! Not long at all, really. How are you this morning, sir?" And she clenched an eye shut at the use of the word. She couldn't, for the life of her, think straight at the moment. Did she call him sir often? Did she just avoid the use of all honorifics when speaking to him? Why couldn't she _bloody_ remember?

"Fine!" he replied a bit too brightly and she almost slipped up in the middle of pouring the hot water at his surprisingly forceful tone. "Fine, as usual. Beautiful morning today." He slipped past her fast enough to leave a bit of a draft in his wake and he stepped to his windows, reaching for the heavy curtains. "Wonderfully sunny outside, did you see? Not a cloud in the-"

He yanked back the curtains to reveal the gloomiest, grayest morning Rose had seen yet.

"Sky…" John broke off, blinking. And he cocked his head in confusion.

"Tea?" Rose asked him quickly, pointing to the teacup as if it had offended her. "Some warm toast, too! Jam, if you fancy…"

John turned from the window to look toward her, releasing the curtain a moment later wearily. "Ah, yes. I'll be taking breakfast."

"Good," Rose nodded swiftly. And she backed away from the tray as he left his windows and neared. Bowing her head at him, she swept toward his bed silently, reaching for the bedcovers as he helped himself to the tea she had prepared him.

For a moment there was silence as Rose set about making his bed, her thoughts a million miles away even though her body was stiff as a board in its current place. If she could continue to go about her business, do all the chores required of her, perhaps she could hurry away from this awkward tension. Which saddened her as she mused over the idea. She had never wanted to be away from the Doctor.

"I trust you found your way back last night safely?" he asked quietly.

She slowed a bit, running her hands across the covers. There went that idea. "Yeah. Yes. I'm here, after all." And she threw him a cheerfully strained smile over her shoulder, quickly turning her attention back to the bed at being met by his back. "Yourself?" she inquired, feigning nonchalance.

He nodded. "Fine. Fine." He took another sip of his tea.

More awkwardness passed in their silence, in the sounds of Rose bustling about, the noise of silverware. The usual sounds of any other morning, but not then. Even after securing the curtains at their posts on either side of the windows, looking out into the gray morning, she still felt colder than she could ever remember. Rounding about the room, her eyes passing over the furniture critically, she allowed her gaze to sweep over the fob watch on the mantle. Still in its place. She wanted to run over to it, take it into her hands and hold it close to her heart.

Her Doctor's very essence was in that fob watch and she wanted to hold it forever.

"Was there anything else you needed?" she asked him, finally turning toward John.

He was watching her intently over his cup of tea. "No, Rose. That will be all, thank you."

She gave him a simple nod, her hands clenching at her sides. And as she took a step to trek toward his door, she suddenly remembered. Halting before him, reaching into the belt of her uniform at her side, she pulled out the familiar leather-bound journal. "Here. I thought I should give this back to you. It's really lovely…all of it," she said to him, clearing her throat as a part of her sentence caught for an instant. And she held out the journal to him.

John stared at it for a long moment, his teacup forgotten in his grip. "Yes. Ah. I think…better you should have it." And he turned away from the offering, setting the teacup back down on the tray.

The book became the slightest bit heavier in her hand. "Sorry?" she asked him with an arched brow.

"I said you should have it." He straightened once more and looked toward her, seemed to see through her. "I won't have need of it anymore and seeing as how you seemed to enjoy it, I thought perhaps…" He shrugged, breaking off.

She blinked at him, wordless for a moment. "W-why…won't you have need of it anymore?"

He paused, a muscle working in his jaw as he looked down at the journal she still held out to him. "Childish fancies…have no place in this world of adults." And his gaze flickered from the journal to her face before he set down his tea, turned away from her and toward his closet.

She opened her mouth, her hand dropping at her side numbly, still clutching the journal. "This isn't childish!" she cried after him and the tone of her voice caused him to look at her again, pausing. "This…" she waved the journal, "this is one of the most wonderful things I've ever seen!"

He stopped in mid-step to stare at her, a frown crossing his face.

"And just because of…of last night, that doesn't mean you stop believing stuff like this!" she said to him flatly. "This was nights and nights of dreams. You were the one who told me last night! To dream about stuff like this, it wasn't above me. Above anyone! So what? Now you're just gonna give it up?"

John continued to stare at her, his lips parting slightly.

Dropping her head to look at the journal in her grip, Rose calmed herself, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "I'm just saying that…just because of what happened last night…that shouldn't make you stop this." She gestured with the journal. "Even if…I still liked it."

He hesitated. "It?"

She lifted her gaze to him. "Yeah. It." And a moment later, catching what he meant, her eyes widened almost comically. "Not that!" she cried, recoiling.

John cocked his head in confusion, looking as if he wanted to ask her to repeat herself but not quite making it that far.

"I mean…it was nice! Don't get me wrong, that was nice, too!" She reiterated instantly, waving both hands before her, the journal suddenly the farthest thing from her mind though she clutched it tightly. "But…I meant the sketches. And the talking. About your dreams. I liked all that. It. I liked it a lot."

He straightened once more, his head bowing at her words, hands clasping behind his back.

"And I just don't think you should stop. That's all I'm saying," Rose finished. And she waved the journal a bit before dropping it beside the breakfast tray. Without another word she spun and headed for the doorway to let herself out.

"Rose."

At the door, pausing, she looked back at him over her shoulder, her jaw shifting a bit. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had say. She doubted it would be anything nice. And if it wasn't, she would have one more thing to have out with him once they were safely in the TARDIS again. "Yeah?"

He had floated back toward the tray, his long fingers reaching down toward the journal. Hesitantly, his eyes trained on the leather-bound book, he said quietly, "Let's make an arrangement, you and I."

She turned in front of the door, leaning her back against it to listen reluctantly.

Glancing up to make sure he had her attention, his hand taking up the journal, he said, "I'll continue to write, continue to keep this journal." And he hesitated, something entering his expression. Something she wasn't sure she approved of. "If you can answer me one thing."

She stared at him levelly, feeling her heart skip the slightest beat. "What's that?" she asked him quietly, attempting to remain aloof.

Tapping the journal against the palm of his free hand, pausing for a long moment, he finally said, "His name. The name of the man you love. What is it?"

Rose's heart dropped out from under her.

John merely continued to gaze at her, an eyebrow arching as her silence stretched out. "Can't you remember it?" he asked her softly though not unkindly.

Glaring faintly at him as irrational anger spiked inside her at his tone, she dropped her eyes to the floor under her and said quietly, "I don't know his name. He's never given it to me," she replied. As confusion entered his expression, she said, "We're not all as lucky as some people. Sometimes…" she shrugged, "we fall in love with people who never really see us. Or people we can never be with in the end. It just happens." She shook her head as she spoke, as her voice fell away.

They stood in silence for a long while, Rose's head bowed, John unmoving beside the breakfast tray, the journal clutched in his hand. Then, quiet as a breeze trailing across the moonlit night, he placed the journal down on his desk. Looking toward her once more, he said slowly, "There's a dance tonight. At the village hall." There was a slight hesitation on his part as he murmured, "Say you'll go."

She lifted her eyes and stared at him. "What?"

"The annual dance," he repeated, expression soft and ever hopeful. "Tonight. At the village hall. I would love for you to go-"

She came away from the door, lifting her frame from it even though she didn't trust her legs to hold her up. He broke off as she cried rather rudely, "Have you lost your mind? Do you see this? What I'm wearing?" She motioned to her uniform, plucked at the buttons along the front. "I'm not _like_ you. I can't just _go_ to these things. It's not as if-"

"Just tonight," he cut her off. "Don't mind what others say. But if it should worry you, I would just as soon spend my time with you elsewhere, anywhere you would choose. Go on. Just…come out tonight. With me."

Her eyebrows turning up in frustration, she whimpered, "John…" And she shook her hands before her, patting down her uniform restlessly. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't. But she was so tired of doing the same thing all the time. Being a maid was just not for her.

Neither had being a lunch lady but that was beside the point.

The problem at the moment was going somewhere with a man who was not the Doctor but one that resembled him enough to make her heart flutter and think there was more to be had there. When there wasn't. She avoided his stare, her heart beginning to trip over itself even at the thought that he was gazing at her. Every piece of her that he laid eyes on seemed to flare with heat and she knew her cheeks were reddening merely standing there.

"I promise to be the most perfect gentleman," he said to her softly and this time she knew she flushed at his tone. "Just you, me and the stars."

At his gentle voice she looked at him, eyes wide. Wasn't that just the way it always was? The Doctor, herself and the TARDIS lost out among the stars? There was a small smile on his face, his expression bordering on hopeful and she felt that same heat from earlier rise in her chest now, her head saying no but her heart wishing to rip clear from her body and fly.

With a last small groan, the smallest of smiles appearing on her face, she mumbled, "Fine." And she turned to the door once more, her hand lifting toward the knob. There was movement from him behind her and she glanced at him as she pulled the door open.

He was all smiles, his hands clasped behind his back.

With a small sigh, still pausing at the door, she said to him, "I don't know his name, the man that I…" She broke off into telling silence and the smile faded slightly as he straightened to listen to her. "Him. I don't know his name. But he's a doctor." And she turned back around to see a boy waiting outside John's door, a hand lifted to knock politely.

"I've come…to collect a book," the boy stammered as Rose stared at him, her color draining away.

"Ah, Mr. Latimer! Yes! Good chap! Come in, come in…" John waved the boy in.

Stepping aside to let him in, Rose looked toward John momentarily and he flashed her what had to be the goofiest smile she had ever seen on her Doctor's face. Smiling and shaking her head, she walked out, closing the door behind her as John turned his attention to the boy.

* * *

_I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't do this. I really shouldn't do this…_

Rose stared at herself in the mirror. She had run off to the TARDIS for half an hour after all her work had been done for the day, just enough time to dress up a bit. She would have to go in her maid uniform but that didn't mean she couldn't curl her hair a bit and spray on something nice, perhaps some lotion. She eyed herself critically, pouting her lips, and after another moment she exhaled wearily. What was the point of it all? The last thing she wanted was to lead John Smith on. Once he recovered his memories, she wanted things to be normal again. This whole evening, what was the point? Most especially the primping. She looked toward the window of the small room afforded the maids at the school, her eyes coming to rest on the stars in the midnight sky blindly. With an inward sigh she slowly moved toward the window, feeling as if she somehow floated on a breeze. The sky was so dark out there, as she came to pause at the window, her face saddening slightly. She was supposed to be out there, out in that sky, in space. With him. But here she was tethered to the Earth. And it was funny how she now felt trapped to the planet she had lived almost her entire life on. How constricted she felt, knowing that when she was out in that dark night, there was no other place she would rather be, especially with him there at her side. She bowed her head, drawing her eyes away from the beckoning night, and returned the issue at hand. Right. A bit of cream for her slowly weathering hands, some sort of perfume. John Smith would appreciate the grooming but the Doctor would have merely brushed it aside, basic human biology to make oneself attractive to…what? She growled at herself, her eyes flying about the maid's quarters, feeling so very trapped and alone. She couldn't wait for a normal shower and a normal breakfast, not scraps of them. With a shake of her head, she moved toward the door. Taking up her jacket she slid it on and then looked at her reflection once more analytically.

It would do.

And as she buttoned herself up she found something nagging her in the back of her head, something she had been thinking about for so long, since having to adjust to this different life. But then, as she thought the issue over once more to herself, she supposed it had to do with _his_ human biology. She wanted the Doctor to be there suddenly just so she could ask him and receive an answer. An answer as to why John Smith would be head over heels for her but not the Doctor. Especially if they were the same person. But that was just the issue, wasn't it? They weren't the same person. In fact they were two completely different people. Wouldn't it have been easier for the TARDIS to have given him an alternate set of memories, one in which she could have played more of a part? One in which she could have been closer to him? But she supposed it could have been complete human biology for him to have fallen for her. He spent so much time with her as it was. But for him to want to act on his feelings even with the knowledge that she was his maid, was in all respects a lower class. What was the explanation there?

"Love knows no bounds," Rose murmured quietly. And merely saying the sentence herself made her twist her lips in irony. Giving herself another pat down and one last look over, she turned and headed out for the night.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Twenty-One: Dancing In a Dark Alley**

"No," she whispered faintly. "I'm not cold anymore." And she breathed deeply of him as well, taking in his earthen skin and the scent that was somehow all her Doctor even if he wasn't the one in her arms. She could think it, could believe it, just for tonight. She could trick herself into thinking that this man holding her was the one who had first extended his hand to her, who had first urged her to run in the basement of a department store so long ago or a time yet to come. She could trick herself into believing all of it. And she could be content to sway in his arms like this forever.


	22. Dancing In a Dark Alley

**Chapter Twenty-One – Dancing In a Dark Alley:**

When she arrived at the village hall she hesitated for a long moment before the front entrance, taking a step toward it and then shuffling back reluctantly. Did she really want to go in there? She was sure she was allowed in. Her entrance wasn't the issue. What mattered was what would happen once she was inside. Would John even look at her? Would he treat her like a maid or treat her like a woman he was in love with? And that wasn't even the question that was nagging her the most. Did she _want_ him to treat her as such? Would it be better all around for him to continue to see her as his maid, especially in front of other people?

"Staff entrance, miss," said the man waiting beside the front doors, looking her up and down and he rattled his tin cup at her with a knowing look.

Rose glanced down at herself, her lips pouting slightly. That basically answered that question for her then. "Right. Staff…entrance." And she stepped back slightly to let through a couple she recognized from the school. In the cold night several people were coming to this small dance and she pulled back even further, her ears picking up the soft gentle music coming from inside the hall. She watched the couples as they lined up, several holding hands, others coming alone and meeting up with their significant others. And she felt just as cold as the breeze as she backed away from the hall and turned a corner to wait in the shadows.

Every person and every couple that passed through the front doors paid a small penny to the man hovering beside the entrance. She had no money with which to offer. And wasn't that just normal for her? Everywhere she went with her Doctor usually required some form of currency, which he somehow always managed to scrounge up. This place here was no different. As such, she waited well enough away, beginning to shiver in the dark. Should she go in, through that aforementioned staff entrance? Perhaps he was already inside waiting on her. But she couldn't very well waltz into the hall. Not like the rest of them could.

The Doctor's figure came out through the front doors of the hall a moment later, glancing around at the hovering darkness. In the light streaming from the doorway behind his lean frame, he resembled the Time Lord enough to make her heart clench and steal her breath.

She should have stood him up. She realized it right then and there as her breath knotted up inside her chest. Something rose in her, powerfully, painfully. Something that told her that tonight would end badly for her relationship with her Doctor if she didn't assert some kind of self control for the _both_ of them.

Quickly, she pulled away from the shadows and stepped into moonlight, uncertain whether to raise her hand and motion to him or not. She didn't in the end, pausing to wait for him to notice her. Once he did he looked about for a moment then began to wind his way around the guests, heading in her direction. She stepped back into the shadows, her arms lifting to embrace herself in the cold, berating herself. What was she doing? What was she _doing?_ She held her breath and took a step, then took that same step backward to press against the wall.

_Leave. Just leave. Just turn around and walk away. And play dumb in the morning. Tell him you changed your mind, that you never came. Act like it wasn't you he saw. Act like-_

His breath misting in the night, John appeared at the corner, coming to a stop. She raised her eyes to him, attempting to read his expression but the moonlight at his back cast his face into shadow. Rounding the corner, he slowly moved toward her, joining her in the shadows.

"Hello," he said to her with a small smile, his face becoming faintly visible.

"Hi," she replied softly, her own smile blossoming to life through her tremors.

Leaning against the side of the wall with a sigh he said, "Bit of a cold night tonight." And he stuck his hands into the pockets of his long coat, lifting his head to the night sky. His hair was down tonight, not the way she was particularly used to. John Smith wore his hair that way. The Doctor had bed hair all day, every day. The kind of hair she wanted to run her hands through to feel it slip between her fingers silkily.

She swallowed and looked away, squashing the thought. Didn't need to go there at all. "Yeah, a bit," she agreed after a moment and she, too, leaned back against the wall.

The silence that came down between them was awkward then as they merely stood in the shadows. Music drifted gently from the hall, falling away as the song ended only to be replaced by one more upbeat and they could hear the announcer inside. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Please take your partners for a waltz!"

John cocked his head a bit, glancing back toward the hall. Rose lifted her head at him uncomfortably as he watched villagers enter the hall then faced forward once more. "Look, if you want to go in, you should! I don't want you out here freezing your…er…well, just freezing out here." She reached out and gave his shoulder a small push. "Go have yourself a good time."

And she realized she sounded like she was pleading with him. She quickly clamped her mouth shut, her arm falling at her side once more.

"Well, to be honest, I would love to go in," John said with a small shrug. "But if you are going to stay out here then I would just as soon join you here. I'm sure we could work up some way to remain warm…" And he paused, his words seeming to hiss out of him into silence. "There was…no way to make that sentence seem any less…"

Rose was already giggling.

He glanced at her, a grin widening on his face as she continued to laugh and he resigned himself to wait her out until her giggles lessened.

"You're still the biggest flirt I know," she managed to make out in between wheezing laughter.

Feigned horror crossed his face at her words. "I am not a flirt!" he gasped which only managed to make her burst out into more laughter. With a sigh, he merely faced forward once more, hands politely under his back as he leaned more comfortably against the wall. "On the contrary. I like to think I'm a gentleman. Perhaps not the _perfect_ gentleman but-"

"You _are_ a perfect gentleman. You are," Rose nodded, stating it firmly. And as she looked at him, as he turned to glance at her once more, she gave him a brilliant smile. Because she really did believe it. John Smith might not have had the same upbringing as the Doctor. In fact, never had there been two individuals quite so different. But the smile that curled that mouth was still her Doctor's and the love for her, even if camouflaged by this different personality, was still his as well. She inhaled faintly, the breath rocking her inside. And then, slowly, she reached out at her side, finding his hand and taking it in hers.

Falling silent, his face registering the touch as he stared at her, he entwined his fingers through hers and his grip was tight, his fingers warm. Something new about John. The Doctor's skin was normally cool to the touch although there were times he had been warm, even hot, when she had let her fingers brush against him. It seemed this very human form of John Smith radiated heat in the same manner the Doctor could regulate his own temperature. And usually the Doctor had done it while playing off her. In cold climates, his skin had been warm when he had taken her hand. And in sunnier days, he had been the touch of coolness in the heat.

Perhaps somewhere in that human body, the Doctor was not lost entirely.

John gazed at her quietly, his hair ruffling in the cold breeze of the night. The moonlight, though it did not touch him, shed enough light to illuminate him and yet darken his eyes. Rose's hand tightened on his instinctively as she stared at him, and he mirrored her, seeming to hold on to her almost urgently. There was something soft in his eyes, as wide as they were. Such warmth and yet more, something else. Something she had seen in the Doctor's eyes before but only very rarely.

"What are we doing here?" she asked him in a faintly desperate tone, caught by his eyes as if bound by rope.

He blinked at her question. "We are…keeping each other company," he replied very gently, his breath releasing in small bits of heat. And she was not fooled by this man before her. He may have been John Smith there and then but when he spoke to her his voice had the same rawness the Doctor possessed in his own tone. That voice, that timbre, came when he was alone with her, when he held her in the silence of the TARDIS. And numerous other times, when they had been in a predicament as dangerous as the one they were currently in, when he had comforted her. That was when that secret edge to his tone was revealed and to hear it now, when she felt as she did for the man, it was almost cruel.

She smiled softly nonetheless, her heart pounding loud enough that she believed it to be audible. "You know that's not what I meant," she said to him.

He returned her smile, carefree. "I know." And he turned a bit to her, lifting his hand toward her face slowly. Slow enough for her to see the caress coming and just slow enough for her to stop him had she desired it. But her eyes did not leave his and his hand trailed against her cheek, fingers grazing almost like the touch of a ghost. "But to answer the question, I honestly do not know." He murmured blindly, his eyes remaining tied to hers, seeming to see right through her yet into her at the same time.

She didn't know whether she felt hidden or completely exposed. Whatever it was she felt, it was not a new feeling. The Doctor made her feel like that always, that strange sense of wonderfully brilliant confusion. As if he could hear everything she thought and literally see everything she _felt._

"Doesn't that worry you?" she asked him faintly, feeling as if she spoke much too loudly even in a whisper. And as his gaze focused once more, she felt a frown wrinkle her brow gently. "Doesn't it worry you that we don't know what's going on here? That maybe this shouldn't…shouldn't be happening?"

His fingers continued to trail down her cheek, his smile slipping slightly.

She needed him to understand. "Deep down, don't you feel…" And she broke off, her eyes closing momentarily as she tried to summon the right words, tried to make sense of what she wanted to say. How could she ask him or explain anything if she herself didn't understand it? "Doesn't this feel wrong to you?" she asked him desperately, opening her eyes once more to look at him.

He sighed quietly, his eyes shifting down to her lips momentarily, his fingers hesitating along her cheek. "To be quite truthful with you, I've never felt anything to be quite so right." He swallowed, blinking at his own words, at the notion that he would have said that to her. But he continued on still, his voice low. "Even if it's not quite right. To others." He shook his head as he finished his sentence. "Never mind. I'm making no sense. You have that effect on me, it would seem. Tie my tongue right up into knots."

Rose smiled once more, closing her eyes against the pads of his fingers. And the gesture then was one she exercised freely around the Doctor. He made her feel safe. Like the childhood game of trust, of falling backward with the implicit belief that the person standing behind you would catch you before you hit the ground. Every time she closed her eyes around the Doctor it was with the faith that he would never let her fall. And now, to close her eyes for John Smith, it was with that same conviction.

In the quiet of the night, with the music drifting from the village hall, perhaps the world didn't seem quite right. But it was as close to perfect as she was going to get. John still smelled like the Doctor, that achingly familiar earthen scent. And he still seemed to shimmer like the moonlight, his wide smile and wilder hair. The only difference, other than the glaringly obvious, was that this human man was taken with her.

When the music from the village hall changed, became a slow piece, she was not surprised to feel him come closer. She savored the sudden onslaught of earth, his human scent tinged with that distinctive fragrance that she had come to associate as his Time Lord scent. She bathed in the heat his skin gave off. And she floated on the gentle touch of his fingers, felt the trailing of his warmth as it slid across her cold flesh. She almost throbbed under the gentle caress, her skin seeming to buzz wherever he passed his fingertips.

"May I have this dance?" he asked her softly.

She had known he was close to her but when her eyes came open she discovered him to be almost pressed against her already, his head bowed to hers. She felt her heart catch at being so close to him, and her thoughtless breath mixed with his own exhalation in the cold night, misting. Quickly composing herself, blinking up at him with wide eyes, she swallowed to clear the unexpected block in her throat. "Do you…" she began and she stopped, hesitating quickly to reinforce her voice. "Do you even know how to dance?" she asked him, not recognizing the small teasing that suddenly appeared in her tone.

He paused, lips parting. "I'm not…quite certain," he murmured, one eye sliding shut as he gave it a thought. "I guess we'll find out now though?" And he smiled faintly as she gazed at him for a long moment, having recognized the Doctor in his expression for an instant.

As such, she wordlessly, dumbly, lifted a hand to him. The same teasing smile still on his face, he took it into his. Rather than holding it to their side as in the traditional style, he brought her clasped hand to rest against his chest. And as he did so, she watched their hands, aware of his eyes on her but unable to meet them at the moment. He took her other hand as well, lifting it, but she shook him off gently, instead taking his and placing it to her waist. His smile softened in the darkness as he found his hand on the sloping curve, almost disappearing. Against his chest, her hand could feel the steady rapid beating of his singular heart and she felt better knowing he was not as calm as he made himself seem. Her own heart tripping in its rush, she lifted her hand to his shoulder and clasped the sharp bone, letting it hang there almost weakly.

_Should I even be doing this?_

She realized after a moment of that kind of thinking that she just didn't care. Coming closer and finally pressing to him, she turned her head and laid it against his shoulder, holding him closely. Being this close, she could now hear his heart and it was a comfort. It wasn't exactly what she was used to but it did wonders for her as well. This was only one half of the heartbeat that lulled her to sleep at night when she dozed off in his arms. But this was the customary warmth and the painfully familiar scent that gave her sweet dreams.

And they didn't dance so much as merely sway but she could have floated away on the feeling that rose inside of her. This wasn't her Doctor. This wasn't the man she was in love with. But she could fool herself into thinking it was, just for one dance.

For the rest of her life if she wanted to be cruel.

"Are you still cold?" he asked her after a moment, his breath warm against her hair. And he closed his eyes as he pressed his head against the silken cushion, inhaling deeply. Her scent was familiar to him, somehow. Something floral, something very _Rose._ As if he had held her like this before, close enough to catch her scent and memorize it. And as if he had done this more than once.

She wasn't cold anymore. She doubted she would have felt any coldness wrapped up in him as she was. In fact, she couldn't even see straight. She seemed to hover in a warm pink cloud, one that vibrated with his very presence. Almost like a thick wonderful blanket.

"No," she whispered faintly. "I'm not cold anymore." And she breathed deeply of him as well, taking in his earthen skin and the scent that was somehow all her Doctor even if he wasn't the one in her arms. She could think it, could believe it, just for tonight. She could trick herself into thinking that this man holding her was the one who had first extended his hand to her, who had first urged her to run in the basement of a department store so long ago or a time yet to come. She could trick herself into believing all of it. And she could be content to sway in his arms like this forever.

Or she could relish this feeling for another month and make herself believe that, just maybe, the man she was in love with loved her just as much and in the same way.

She could believe it for now.


	23. A Missing Fob Watch

**A/N - **Sorry I'm a week late but here I am! :)

**Chapter Twenty-Two – A Missing Fob Watch:**

They were snapped from the haze as a scream broke through the dark night. For a moment, as silence fell once more, all they did was stare at each other, eyes wide. And as a second scream rang out, followed quickly by a third, John whirled around, Rose looking over his shoulder. The alley was empty, as was the street, but it was no longer silent as more screams and shouting erupted, shattering the quiet.

Taking hold of her hand with a firm grip, John dragged Rose behind him out toward the street and looked around quickly, alert.

"Where is it coming from?" Rose asked him warily, peeking around him.

"The hall…" he replied numbly as shouts followed more screams. And as they watched, people began to file out through the front doors of the hall frantically, running. They stared in confusion, John hiding Rose behind his frame. "What in the-"

"We should go see," Rose murmured, biting on her bottom lip.

John blinked, glancing at her over his shoulder as people began to race by him. "I think…that could quite possibly be a _bad_ idea," he remarked.

Rose was forced to agree though she was unused to those words coming from the Doctor's mouth, from that mouth there. The Doctor would have known how to handle anything they would have been confronted with. She did not think John would know how to handle anything that could be thrown at them. But to stand around and do nothing?

Weighing the options with a small frown, she wound around John a second later, darting toward the hall as he hissed her name behind her. Hearing him curse under his breath, Rose threw him a surprised look. Never in her years with the Doctor had she heard words like those pass his lips. But then, John was not her Doctor. Spinning back around to face the hall, she raced up to it and paused at the bottom of the front steps as villagers streaked past her, practically shoving her down. She recognized many of them, even in their panic. But her heart tripped in its beat as a young man appeared at the entrance, looking out over the hysteria he seemed to have caused.

John sped to a stop behind her, looking up also. Rose stared at the young man, slowly frowning as she studied him, and she didn't know how she knew but she just suddenly knew. The anger radiating from the youth was familiar. As familiar as the anger and sheer _lust _that had come off the creatures on Gamorra, the same ones that had stuck them in their position to begin with. She felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck lift slowly and she had half a mind to clap a hand down over them.

Just as the young man turned his gaze toward them, Rose took hold of John's hand and immediately spun around. "Ok, you were right, it was a bad idea!" she cried to John as she began to drag him.

"What are you on about?" he asked her in surprise.

At the hall entry way, the young man inhaled deeply, his head snapping to the side as he surveyed the crowd that fled from him. The mere gesture sent a cold shiver right through Rose and she began to yank on John even more, her muscles straining as he momentarily fought her in confusion. Coming up at the younger man's side on the front steps, a pretty little girl studied the crowd as well, her own nose crinkling.

"Why are we running? They're just children. In fact, I recognize one of them. I believe his name is Baines-" John said as he finally began to follow Rose's nimble frame, their breath clouding in the night air.

She didn't bother responding for a moment, already knowing the way back to the school but uncertain of exactly what they were going to do once they got there. "Because the game's over," she replied grimly, darting out of the way as more people ran from the couple on the hall steps. She glanced back over her shoulder as her vision of the couple was obscured by fleeing strangers, as she attempted to put distance between them and the Doctor.

It was time to open the watch and wake him at last.

* * *

Bursting into John's room with him panting behind her, Rose flew toward the mantel in search of the fob watch. "It'll be ok in a sec," she called back to him, fighting the edge of panic that threatened to rise in her voice. "Trust me. We'll have you back in no-" And she came to a stop at not finding the fob watch. Swallowing frantically but quickly forcing herself to take a deep breath, she composed herself and then searched again, running her hand over the wood.

And nothing.

"Um, John," she asked him as he entered his room and hesitated at the doorway. "Where is the watch?"

"What watch?"

"The _watch!"_ she cried instantly and she stopped once more, breathing yet again. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know what the bloody blazes she was talking about. Counting to five, breathing with each number she ticked off, she tried again. "The fob watch. The watch that was here. Where is it?"

"Fob watch?" John came further into his room, a frown forming on his face. "I don't recall owning-"

Rose darted toward him and immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, not wanting to hear his voice speak the words. "Yes, John. You have a watch. And it was right there. I clean this mantel every day and I always clean around the watch. I know, bad housekeeping. I'm a bad housekeeper. But I'm not really a housekeeper. Or if I am, I'm a terrible one, cleaning around things. It doesn't matter." She shook her head, waving away the last few sentences. "I just really need the watch."

John was watching her from behind her hand silently.

"Where is it?" she tried again, staring at him, prodding him on. And she lowered her hand away from his mouth.

After a moment's hesitation, he replied slowly and almost reluctantly, "I really couldn't tell you…"

Staring at him once more, practically drilling holes into his head, she whirled toward the mantel again and merely looked at it blindly. It was gone. The fob watch was gone. Casting a quick look around the room, panic beginning to rear up inside her, she darted for his desk and began to shove items off its top, scattering his things across the floor.

"Rose!" he shouted from behind her. "What has gotten into you-"

"I need the watch!" she cried, fighting off hysteria. "I need the damn watch and I need you to wake up before they find out who you are!" And she dropped to her knees to search everything she had just tossed to the wooden floor, dragging her hands through the items.

"Rose-" he said and he was behind her in a moment, reaching down and wrapping a hand around her arm. "Rose, stop-"

"Help me!" she ordered him, attempting to pull her arm out of his grip even as her free hand swept through the clutter now on the floor. "Let go-"

"Stop this!" he demanded.

And as he yanked her almost off her knees there was an explosion from outside.

They both came to a stop, eyes darting toward the windows in the silence that had followed the heavy impact. And for a blessed moment all that remained was the quiet. Eyes shifting sideways, straining to hear, Rose held herself still in John's grip. He also remained very stiff, hesitating in the complete silence.

Then, ringing out in the night, came the voice from outside, through the window. "Mr. Smith! I do hope you'll come outside and sit with me for a bit! We have much to discuss!"

John looked at Rose quickly in confusion.

Rose, in turn, merely dropped her head, settling on her knees wearily, her arm still caught in his tight grip. "They know," she said to him quietly.

Swallowing, his eyes wide, he asked her, "Know what?"

"Mr. Smith!" came the voice once more and this time it was followed by the sound of another impact. A larger impact. And sudden hysteria as footsteps sounded in the hallways of the school, shouts ringing out. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"Why do they want me?" John demanded, releasing her.

Rose simply watched him as he sprang toward his window and shoved aside the curtains to look down to the field below. "They don't want you," she called after him weakly, her eyes catching to the rigid line of his shoulders. She felt how stiff her own shoulders felt then, her face drawn. "They want the Doctor."

John whirled to look at her as if she had lost her mind, his hand slipping along the curtains.

She returned his look tiredly, surrounded still by his scattered items on the wooden floor.

Down below, the young man from the hall stood out in the open field, the little girl at his side and two more figures in darkness behind him. "Mr. Smith! John Smith!"

Rising slowly to her feet, Rose waited where she stood, her knees looking to fold once more. "I need that watch, John. I _need_ it. Right now-"

"I don't have a watch!" he shouted at her as he glanced at her once more. And with a glare he turned his attention back outside once more, his hand trembling against the curtains. "This is ludicrous. Why are we running and hiding from children? I'm going to put a stop to this-"

"Don't go!" Rose cried, and she stepped into his way as he pulled back from the windows and began to march toward the doorway. "You don't know what they can do! _I_ don't know what they can do! Just help me find the watch and–"

"We do not need a godforsaken watch!" he thundered at her and he brushed past her, almost shoving her as she reached to stop him. "I'm putting an end to this ridiculous-"

_"Doctor!"_ she shouted at him.

And he hesitated at her scream, his back to her. For a moment she let herself believe that she had gotten through to him, to the Doctor lost inside John's body, lost inside a misplaced fob watch. But as John turned to her once more, she felt a shiver course through her at his dark glare.

"I am _not_ your doctor," he said to her coldly, his eyes flat. And with that he stormed toward the door and out through it, heading for the fields.

* * *

Coming out onto the back end of the school's property, John ushered school boys back into the safety of the school, ordering them to fetch the headmaster. He fought down another glare as Rose appeared from a shadow just inside the school, her hand lifting to the doorway as she watched him.

"Don't do this," she pleaded with him as he turned to face forward once more, his jaw clenching where he stood. "John, they're looking for you, they _want you_. Just come back inside with me. Help me look for-"

Ignoring her, John lifted his hands and waved them at the figures out in the fields. And he waited silently, breathing in deeply as Rose came closer another step.

"I'll tell you everything," she begged him quietly. "You'll think I'm crazy but I will tell you everything. Just come with me somewhere. Away from here. I want to show you-" Her voice dwindled away as the figures approached, coming through the field onto the school property like wraiths.

"John Smith," the young man with the cold smile murmured as he paused several yards away. "Or shall I call you by your other title? That of Time Lord?" And he fingered a device held in his hand at his side, something that resembled an automatic weapon.

Rose's eyes darted to John's back as it stiffened, to his head as it turned in her direction the slightest bit. Nonetheless, he held the boy's eyes, straightening rigidly. "Mr. Baines, isn't it? You're one of the students here. What is the reason for this madness you have started here?"

Behind the young man, the little girl took a step closer, her eyes dark in the night. And behind the two of them stood a woman in a maid uniform and a villager clothed in a tweed suit, a thick mustache upon his upper lip.

"You've woken the entire school over this, Baines. You had best prepare yourself for the heavy punishment that comes with-"

"I'll have no punishment from you, Doctor," Baines cut him off and he lifted the weapon in his hand slowly, pointing it at John.

Rose took a shaky step forward, her hands splayed. "Wait! Wait-" she said in a trembling voice, stepping before John even as he protested weakly. "Don't shoot. Just don't-"

Baines hesitated, the smile on his face widening slightly. Sniffing abruptly, realization entered his expression as he observed her intently. "The human!" he proclaimed. "I recognize your scent! You were in the company of the Doctor."

"Yeah," she replied firmly, her hands still held up before her. "Yeah, that's me." She backed up a small step, forcing John to take a step back also. "We're not looking for any trouble. We'll go anywhere you want us to. Just…leave this school in one piece. We'll go far from here, away from this school. Just…" she motioned, her voice breaking off.

"What are you doing?" John hissed at her.

"Trying-" she growled back, "to save us. Now give me a second-"

"Where is the Time Lord consciousness?" Baines demanded from her, taking a step even as she backed up another, forcing John into the darkness of the doorway.

John fell into telling silence behind her, his presence almost burning with confusion.

"I hid it," Rose answered. "I put it away so we could hide from you. It's safe. It's just…not here."

Baines took another step, the weapon fixed on her. "Oh, isn't it?" he asked with a small cackle. "Well, if you would be so kind as to take us to it, I will _possibly_ let everyone else go." He cocked his head. "You would not want me to tear this school apart, I assure you."

Rose shook her head. "No. No."

Baines bowed his head as he glared at her. "Then the location of the consciousness. I will have it now."

Swallowing faintly, straightening at the question, Rose whispered softly, quiet enough for only John to hear, "Do you know where the fob watch is?"

Behind her he held silent for a moment. And then he replied quietly, "No."

And as Baines took one last step to bring him to a stop barely three yards from her she sighed inwardly. This was going to end up badly somehow. Her eyes darted from Baines to the little girl a step behind him to his other two partners several feet behind. They would have to cut through the entire length of the school and go out the front. If she could bring John to the TARDIS perhaps there was a way to restore his memory, to jar the Doctor awake inside him.

Whirling, her breath escaping her in the command, she took hold of John's hand and pulled. "Run." And just like that, without a word of protest, John allowed her to lead him as she took off, yanking him behind her. In the background she heard Baines let out a sharp shout of anger and she barely managed to duck as a beam of green energy suddenly burst right past her shoulder, slamming into the wall ahead of her. Ignoring it, her hand tightening on John's, she led him clear through the first floor of the school, through the rooms, down the hallways, all the while hearing the figures as they were pursued.

Breaking out through the front, they made to clear the property of the school. She knew the way to the barn that housed the TARDIS; she had visited the barn often enough to dream of the path. They would just have to run it and keep out of the way of their pursuers. And she didn't know if she would be able to do it, not with John, confused as he was, questioning their every move.

Dashing out into the cold night, she veered immediately for the woods and she knew she didn't imagine the sound of confusion from student and staff alike as their pursuers followed after. Once in the woods perhaps she could lose them, avoid them. Tugging John after her she dove deep into the woods, intent on losing herself, losing them both to the darkness. He seemed to have the same idea as he followed wordlessly, his hand warm in hers in the cold of the night. She couldn't think of that now. She couldn't think of anything other than losing their pursuers and finding the way to the TARDIS. It was the only way they would be able to-

She came to a dead stop.

John crashed into her from behind, a small sound breaking from him. "Rose! What in the-"

"They're not following," she whispered numbly and she spun around, looking back the way they had come. But now, hidden in the woods, she could barely figure out the way they had come much less which way their pursuers may have gone. "W-why wouldn't they be following?"

John made a small sound of irritation. "Perhaps luck has finally settled on our side," he replied sourly. And he took hold of her arm, yanking her back around. "Tell me what the hell is going on here!"

Rose pulled on her arm, attempting to drag it out of his grip. "I already told you! I need the watch! I need the Doctor!" And she pulled free as he stiffened at her words, his glare reappearing. Staring at each other in the moonlit darkness, Rose sighed, her breathing raspy. "You are not John Smith. You are the Doctor. You're _my_ Doctor!" she cried and she broke off, turning her head away even as the sentence broke from her mouth.

She wasn't going to do this. Not now. And not like this. Inhaling to calm herself, her hands clenching at her sides, she said in an even tone, "The journal. All the things you've written, all the things you've sketched in that journal. They're all true. All of them. You have sketches of those women, of Martha Jones. Of Donna Noble. They both exist. _I_ exist. I am not your maid. I am your _friend."_ And she felt her brow turn up as she asked weakly, "Don't you remember me? At all?"

John was looking lost before her, reluctance thrown into his expression. "You are…my maid-"

Grimacing, shaking her head, Rose groaned. "No. I'm your companion. You are the Doctor. You're…an alien! From another world! From out there!" And she lifted her hand and pointed at the night sky through patches of trees. "All those things you ever wrote about, the magic carpet, the TARDIS! It's where I'm taking you now! Because maybe…maybe I can jog your memory! Get you to remember!"

"Remember what!" he demanded of her and he motioned as well toward the sky, toward the way they had come. "I am John Smith! I am but a man! I am not this Doctor you speak of! John Smith! I have always _been_ John Smith! Isn't that-" And he broke off, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. "Isn't that good enough for you?"

Rose stared at him, her heart breaking. This was one of the things she had been afraid of since the kiss. She had feared the Doctor remembering that they had even shared a kiss but she had feared that John Smith would confront the memory of the Doctor and not be able to handle it. And this was it, right before her. Happening at the worse moment possible. "Yes. Yes. John, I would…I would _keep _you. I would stay with you, forever. But that's not what's supposed to happen here! We came here to get away from them, to hide from them! And they can't get you. They can't get you and they can't get that watch! It's what he didn't want, the Doctor."

John's jaw clenched, his face shadowing. "The Doctor is a myth. A story. _Your_ story, created from the journal! A story I dreamt! He doesn't exist-"

"I'll take you to the TARDIS," Rose said firmly and she held her hand out to him, her fingers splayed. "I will take you to the blue box and I will prove to you it exists. All of it. Just come with me. If you don't believe me after this, then I will believe anything you say. I promise." And as he looked from her to her hand she added, "But I'm warning you, once you see the TARDIS, there is no going back. Once you see the blue box, you have to believe everything I tell you. No matter how crazy, how…incredible it is! Promise me you will believe me once you have the proof."

Silence fell on them as she waited for his answer, as she waited for her words to sink in. It was ludicrous to believe and much to ask for of someone who was not used to that world.

But to his credit he merely nodded, lifting his hand and placing it in hers. "Just…to follow these rules of yours. If this…TARDIS…doesn't exist…" And he looked at her, a long measured gaze that became tinged with sadness. "You'll stop this. All of this…nonsense. All this talk of…a doctor. You'll end this talk."

Rose gazed at him, her heart breaking at his words. She couldn't imagine a world without the Doctor, without his magical TARDIS. She could stay with John Smith for the rest of her life. But there would always be that underlying voice telling her that this was wrong. That it was all wrong. Fixing her lips into a straight firm line she nodded wordlessly. There was nothing to fear. Once he saw the TARDIS with his own eyes it would be easier to bring the Doctor out of him. He would have to believe and he would see all of it, the inside of the TARDIS, how it was so much bigger on the inside. All the things that couldn't be explained, he would be witness to it all and then he would not be able to refute it. The process would be easier with him onboard with the notion of the Doctor and the TARDIS, of her as his companion.

Taking hold of his hand firmly, she nodded once more silently and then turned to lead him to the barn.

**Next Chapter - Chapter Twenty-Three: An Empty Barn**

Poking her head in through the barn door she felt her legs weaken momentarily. The barn was empty. She had always been able to see the TARDIS from the barn door, had always caught a glimpse of the phone box's smooth blue wood. The back of the barn was empty now, the TARDIS gone from its spot.


	24. An Empty Barn

**Chapter Twenty-Three – An Empty Barn:**

She knew, once she came out of the woods and saw the barn door ajar, that something was very, very wrong. Coming to a stop, her lungs suddenly freezing over with cold night air, she couldn't will herself to continue on. Behind her, John came to a halt as well, his hand clasped in hers. "The barn?" he asked her softly.

She couldn't bring herself to reply. Something was wrong. There was something in the air, a feeling that spoke to her and raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Taking a tentative step from the last tree of the woods, she looked around quickly, her gaze darting about. And then, releasing John's hand she streaked forward toward the door of the barn.

It was dark inside.

Poking her head in through the barn door she felt her legs weaken momentarily. The barn was empty. She had always been able to see the TARDIS from the barn door, had always caught a glimpse of the phone box's smooth blue wood. The back of the barn was empty now, the TARDIS gone from its spot. Behind her John floated up and waited expectantly, looking around at the surrounding area before turning his attention back to the darkness of the barn.

"It's gone," Rose whispered. And even as the words left her mouth, even as she felt her breath leave with them, she darted into the blackness, forcing her eyes to adjust as she searched the empty barn. As if it had never existed, the TARDIS was just gone. But she was wrong. She had to be wrong. Perhaps her eyes just needed to adjust a bit more. Perhaps her eyes had always played tricks on her and they had settled the TARDIS in another part of the barn. She lifted a hand to her head as she thought the words, as she shot the notion down a moment later. No. No, the TARDIS had been right there. She had always been able to light the corner of it with moonlight when she had come on a cloudless night.

John was eerily silent at the barn entryway.

"It was right here," she murmured dumbly, now beginning to feel the first strain of panic. In a minute she would begin to breathe a bit unevenly and, yes, there it was. She felt her lungs tighten up, tiny shivers trekking up her spine. "The TARDIS was right-" And she broke off at feeling her voice suddenly tremble. She was panicking. She couldn't panic right then. She needed to think. She needed to _think. _"It was right here," she whispered faintly, weakly.

John took a step into the barn timidly. "Rose."

She whirled toward him, her hand falling away from her head to point at him. "Don't. Don't say anything. Don't say what I think you're going to say. Just…just give me a minute to think, yeah?" And she turned away from him once more, her hand lifting back to her head as she closed her eyes. She had to think. She had to stay focused on the problem at hand. The missing TARDIS. The creatures closing in on them. A Time Lord lost somewhere inside the body of a daft human. She inhaled deeply, her breath suddenly feeling as if it would choke her and she couldn't help the whimper that slid out. "I don't get it. I don't get it. Where? Where could it be?"

John remained silent as he took one more step and then paused.

She heard him take the step but pushed it away, pacing from one foot to the other restlessly, thinking furiously. Could they have taken it, the creatures pursuing them? How could they have known it was hidden here? "We had her on low power. They shouldn't have been able to find her, to…to sense her! He _told_ me-" But the words failed her. All her words failed her. She swallowed, her eyes focused blindly on the ground under her feet before reluctantly shifting toward John.

His expression was one of remorse.

"I haven't lost my mind," she argued weakly. "I'm telling you, the TARDIS was here. That…that blue box. That's the name for it, for the phone box. It's called the TARDIS. And you and me, we left it here because we needed to hide. We needed to-"

"There's nothing here," he said to her softly, his face sorrowful. And he slowly floated toward her, his hand reaching for her. "Rose, I don't expect you to understand. After all, they were fanciful dreams. I wanted them to be true just as much as you-"

"They _are_ true!" she cried and she shoved his hand away unkindly. "It's all true! The TARDIS! Martha Jones! Donna Noble! The alternate universes, all the other faces you ever had! With the big ears! They were all you! They were all the _Doctor!"_

John sighed wearily, his hand falling to his side once more. "I am not a doctor, Rose. I'm John. Just John. John Smith-"

"No," Rose shook her head, her hands lifting to wave away his words, to wave _him_ away. "No-"

"It's all I've ever been-" he continued, taking a step toward her, almost beseeching.

And she couldn't deal with the pleading tone in his voice, shaking her head still, trying to force it all away, push it _away._ "I said no-"

"And I am in _love_ with you!" he shouted finally, his voice raw.

The silence that fell between them was heavy to the point of crushing them. Rose stared at him, still hearing his words echo around her, in her head. His face, at having spoken the words, at hearing them still as well, had blanched to the shade of the moonlight trailing in.

"I shouldn't have said that," he murmured a moment later, head dropping.

Heaving with emotion, Rose could only gaze at him, dumbfounded. It was too much. It was just _so_ much that she couldn't focus, couldn't put all her attention to one thing. The Doctor hadn't said those words. John Smith had. John Smith had, with his human feelings and emotions. But he had memories, false memories of a past that wasn't his. He couldn't be in love with her, he barely _knew_ her. And the TARDIS. The TARDIS was still missing, as was the watch. And she couldn't awaken the Doctor, she couldn't _reach_ him. And the creatures were going to find them, at any moment. She had to think of something, had to _do_ something or they were both done for. She just didn't have the first idea what to do.

"Say something," John whispered and she realized with a start that he had been gazing at her the entire time she had gone off in her own head. His face was dark in the shadow of the moonlight, his wild hair looking as if he had run his hands through it furiously.

But what could she say to that? "That's not…" she uttered and she broke off, rethinking her words. "What you're feeling, it's not…" But that wasn't going to work either. She rubbed at her forehead, wincing. There was just so much. "Those feelings aren't real," she said weakly in the end.

John recoiled faintly.

"They're not," she rushed on, taking a step toward him frantically. "Look, just listen to me for a second and don't interrupt, ok? Please?"

He hesitated before nodding wordlessly.

From a distance, back in the direction they had come from, they heard the far off roar of an explosion and John whirled back toward the barn door, his frame stiff. Rose looked with him, fighting the sudden heavy urge to cry. That was them, the creatures that were coming after them. Shifting from one foot to the other, she began quickly. "Ok. Ok. Your memories, everything you remember, none of it is true." And she motioned to him, prodding him on. "Where is your father from?"

He responded immediately even though he turned to face her slowly. "Gallifrey."

She pointed, grabbing on to that piece of information. "Right! Where is Gallifrey?"

John threw her a look of confusion. "Ireland…I suppose…" he replied haltingly.

Rose gazed at him, understanding coming into her expression. "Don't you know?" she asked him quietly. But a moment later she waved away anything he would have said. "You weren't born in Ireland. You were born on Gallifrey. It's another planet, out there-" And even as she motioned to the moonlight coming in through the barn doors she broke off. "Well, actually…'s not there anymore. Which…kind of…messes up that explanation there…but still!" She stared at him, willing him to believe. "You're not like us. Like me. You're not human. You have two hearts."

John merely watched her silently, his expression that of sorrow.

"Two hearts," she echoed. "And when I sleep…next to you…I hear them. I hear them and they…they make me feel like I'm home."

A frown was forming on John's face. "You've…slept next to me? In my same bed? While I was asleep?" he asked her slowly.

Rose couldn't help but smile at the expression on his face, one of surprise mixing with mild horror. "No. Not you. The Doctor. That's who you are. You're not John Smith. You are the Doctor. An alien from another planet, with a magical carpet called the TARDIS. And you and me…we go everywhere in it. Everywhere, any time."

At the mention of the Doctor John's face fell into shadow once more.

"Just listen to me," she pleaded. And she motioned back toward the way they had come. "The journal, the one you wrote. You had…you had sketches! Sketches of the blue box, the TARDIS. Sketches of the watch. The watch…has your subconscious. In it." She clapped her hands closed, palm against each other and then opened them side by side. "When you open it, it's supposed to release that…that…oh, for the love of…" And she came to a dead stop, a hand lifting back toward her head. "Ok, let me start over. I'll explain it from the start."

John waited for her, indulgently. But a shadow fell once more and more bursts echoed in the distance, lights shimmering outside of the barn. Aftermaths of explosions, the flickering lights of fire.

"You and me," she began once more, shoving down the panic. "We travel. In the blue box. In the TARDIS. The TARDIS travels through space and time. Out there, in the stars." She motioned. And she ignored the blank expression on his face because she could just hear what he was thinking. "You are the Doctor. You're not human, not like me-"

"Well, at least one of us is human," he said in an undertone, a slight shrug to his slim shoulders, forcing easiness when quite clearly he was stiff.

Rose checked the urge to commit violence. "You're from another planet, one that isn't there anymore. You're a Time Lord, the last of your kind. You travel all over in that machine and you took me along one day."

"And why would I do that?" he demanded, his arms now crossing over his chest. "What exactly do you do for him, this _Doctor?_ What is your purpose?"

Rose stared at him. "I'm his friend…" she answered haltingly, feeling iciness suddenly sweep down her shoulders.

"His friend?" John echoed, mirth crossing his face at the mere idea of it. "You and this Doctor? A _maid_ and a _Doctor?"_

"I'm not-" she broke out angrily and she stopped herself, inhaling deeply. "I'm not a maid. I'm just a girl. And he's not a Doctor. I mean, he can pass for one but that's just his name. What I call him. He's never told me his real name. We're best mates and we travel together. I'm his companion."

"I see," John said with a simple nod.

Rose stared at him. "No. No, you _don't_ see. You don't see anything!" she cried.

He glared at her, his frame stiffening. "You're right, of course. I don't see anything. And I don't believe a word you've told me thus far." He waved a hand flippantly. "There are enough holes in your stories for me to walk through them!" And as she sputtered out an angry retort he spoke right over her. "For example, this Doctor. If you and he are such close friends, best mates as you put it, why do you not know his name?"

Rose came to a stop, her voice dying in her throat.

"And this Doctor, obviously a man you hold very dear. We share the same appearance if you believe me to be him. You are _in love_ with him. But you would so easily push me aside as if…as if…" And he stopped, his glare softening slightly as he turned his eyes away from her.

The silence that fell between them seemed to throb with pain.

"Don't make this harder than it already is, yeah?" she begged him quietly. "Right now there are people after us, and quite possibly there are people dying. And the two things I need to wake you up are gone. _Gone._ I don't know where the TARDIS or the watch is and I don't know of any other way to-" And she stopped, her hand having risen to her chest at her words. Under her uniform she felt the outline of the TARDIS key and quickly she produced it for him, pulling it from her neck, the string dangling in her fist. "This! This here! Do you recognize it?" she asked him breathlessly.

His eyes trailed away from hers to the string dangling from her hand.

"Right. Sorry." She took the string into her fist and let the key dangle instead.

His eyes came to rest on the key silently. But she registered the moment he recognized the key. "I've never seen it before," he murmured nonetheless, his gaze caught to the key blindly.

Rose tilted her head, anger now rising. "Don't you do that," she ordered him and she took a step closer, dangling the key before him. "Look at it again. Tell me you know what it is. Because I saw it on your face. You know what this key is for. You've _seen_ it."

His eyes flew to meet hers.

"You've seen it because you've dreamt of it. You've _drawn_ it. In your journal. The journal you let me keep!" she snapped at him. And she reached out and took his hand into hers, plunking the key into his palm ungracefully. "Look at it and tell me you don't recognize it!"

He looked down at it and she didn't imagine that his hand quivered because her heart trembled as well to see John Smith holding the key to the TARDIS. In the long coat she could almost imagine he was the Doctor once more, his mouth set in a firm line.

But just as he lifted his head to reply once more, a figure appeared at the entrance to the barn, throwing shadows across the moonlight drifting in.

* * *

**Next Chapter - Chapter Twenty-Four – Waking From a Dream:**

A moment later, as she was whispering the words, convincing herself of them even as she attempted to convince him, John had taken hold of her. He dragged her to him, his hand clutching the fob watch and then her hand as well. Their hands met, the fob watch between their palms and his mouth closed over hers, dragging her breath from her and at the same time seeming to give almost everything of him. She meant to pull away, had half a mind to, because they were just delaying the inevitable. But she found after an instant that she didn't want to, that she wanted just this one moment with him, any version of him. Human or Time Lord, just one moment.


	25. Waking From a Dream

**A/N: **OMG I'm on time! Hahahahahahahaha!

**Chapter Twenty-Four – Waking From a Dream:**

John instantly whirled, the TARDIS key disappearing in his fist as he stepped in front of Rose. She came up behind him, her heart racing. And a moment later she felt a sigh leave her as a young boy entered the barn reluctantly.

"Mr. Latimer!" John said crossly, relief evident in his tone as well. "What are you doing here? You should be at the school, where the headmaster can protect you!" And he returned the key to Rose before striding toward the boy's shadowed figure, Rose lifting a hand to her pounding heart, her key clutched in her fist.

"I came to bring you this," Tim Latimer said quietly and John Smith came to a sudden stop.

Even from where Rose stood she could see the fob watch nestled in the boy's palm. A tidal wave of relief crashed down on her and she swept past John to slide to a halt before the boy. "Where did you get that?" she asked him through a haze, taking it from him and examining it from all angles. The fob watch. It was the fob watch. It was warm to the touch and she didn't know if it was from the boy's hand or from the very essence of the Time Lord within. But next to her key the fob watch seemed to tremble faintly and she held them together before her, observing them both.

"From his study," Tim replied shyly, motioning to John.

"Why do you have it?" John demanded, coming up beside Rose but merely looking at the watch in her palm, a dark frown on his face. As Rose turned to him with a brilliant smile he did not share in her joy, his expression one of distrust at seeing the watch.

"It called to me, sir. It spoke to me," the boy answered.

Rose held the watch out to John, placing her TARDIS key in her pocket. "Take it. Take it and open it," she said eagerly.

John looked at it, his jaw clenching. As Rose's smile faltered faintly he murmured, "I won't." And he turned away to stride back into the darkness of the barn.

Rose felt ice creep down her spine once more. "W-what do you mean, you won't?" she stuttered in confusion. And she took a step to follow him, her jaw hanging open. "What do you mean, you won't?" she demanded again, this time frantically, loudly. "All you have to do is...is _touch_ it! Open it!"

John was still shaking his head, his figure hovering toward the back of the barn.

"It's been calling for you," Latimer said softly behind her, looking at John as Rose turned to him. "The voice...inside. It wants you. It wants to be held." And he motioned to John.

"Why did you take it?" Rose asked him.

He glanced at her, shrugging. "It wasn't safe. It told me who they were, the ones who came to the school tonight. It wanted me to take it away, to keep it safe. And now it wants him." And he gestured to John once more.

John merely looked at him, a firm set to his jaw.

Rose turned back to him and he met her eyes, his gaze distrusting. "Please, John. Just take it."

He dropped his eyes to the watch as she held it, a muscle in his jaw shifting. And he shook his head curtly. "No. No. You haven't given me a reason to believe that this Doctor exists. I don't even know what that man is like, what kind of person-"

Latimer's voice came softly in the night, floating in the barn. "He's...like fire and ice and rage," he whispered and Rose turned to him once more, her eyes widening. "He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun-"

"Stop it," John uttered, seemingly appalled.

"He's ancient and forever," the boy continued, his gaze intent and focused. "He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe."

"Stop it," John repeated, his voice coming stronger. "I said stop it-"

"And he's wonderful," Latimer finished, his voice falling away.

Beside him Rose uttered a simple, "Yeah…" and allowed a smile to curl the corners of her lips. She agreed with everything he had said, her heart warming gently as his words brought the very image and essence of the Doctor back to her. He had been gone for so long that the mere impression of her Doctor made the air in her lungs swell almost unbearably.

Outside, coming from the fields and from the school, more explosions sounded. But then explosions also sounded from the other direction, from the village. Rose slipped past Latimer and paused at the barn door, looking out frantically. The sky was bright with lights from flames, sparks shooting from all directions. And she whispered numbly, "They're destroying the village now..."

Hesitating only slightly, John took a step toward the barn door. He seemed to weigh his thoughts heavily, his hands fisting at his sides. As if he didn't want to have to make the choice. Then, with a tightening to his mouth he swung in her direction, refusing to look directly at her. "Watch," he ordered quietly.

Rose turned to look toward him, the fob watch clutched in her hand. Wordlessly, however, she left the barn entrance and strode over to him, lifting her hand, fob watch in her palm. He stared at it for a moment, Rose looking up at him, pushing him on with her expression. His mouth twisting, he took it into his hand and only then suddenly felt it. The heat and the caress of wind, whispers that seemed to float from the fob watch.

"Can you hear it?" Latimer asked him in the ghost of a breath.

John frowned, trying to hear over the commanding murmurs that lifted lazily from the watch. "I think...he's asleep," he replied, frowning. He lifted the fob watch closer to his face, straining to make sense of the whispers. "Waiting to awaken..."

"Why did he speak to me?" Latimer's voice came to him through a haze.

And the answer was suddenly spilling from his lips, words that he understood only as long as he spoke them. "Oh, low-level telepathic field. You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing-" And he suddenly gasped, pulling his face away from the fob watch in horror. "Is that how he talks?"

"That's him!" Rose cried and she took a step closer to him, her heart beating, aching. He was so close, so close to her and she needed him. She _needed_ him. Staring at John, she wanted to reach out to help the Doctor return, to push him to return. Her hand lifted toward his face automatically, tears straining to rise in her eyes as she gazed at him.

_Please. Please, please, please._

"Open the watch. Just open-" she urged him, her voice hitching.

"You knew this...all along," he whispered, staring at her as if she were suddenly a stranger to him. He looked at her hand where she held it still lifted toward his face but backed away from it, shaking his head. "And yet you...you let me _feel_-"

"I tried to stop you!" she cried, drawing her hand back toward her chest, her fingers curling into a weak fist. "I tried to tell you! To _explain_ to you that...that-" And she broke off, the tears now there, welling up. "There are things he told me to look out for. I just never thought...and _he_ never thought-"

"Falling in love?" John demanded in disbelief. "That didn't even occur to him?"

Rose gazed at him. It had been said, at last. The one thing she had always feared. Had always _desired._ "No. That's not...him," she whispered.

He returned her stare, his face suddenly falling flatly, emotionless. "No," he echoed her lifelessly. And he waved the watch at her as if it was the bane of his very existence. "And what sort of man is that? The kind of man you want back? You would put an end to all of this-"

"It was always going to end," she said with a shake of her head, willing him to understand. "They only have three months of life, those creatures following us. Three months and then they die. And that's why they needed you! A Time Lord!"

John clenched his jaw at her words and as she stared at him she felt horror ripple through her at the sight of tears rising in his eyes as well. She took a step toward him, lifting a hand thoughtlessly once more and he backed away, betrayal clouding his face.

"Your job was to execute me," he uttered.

Rose sensed the blood leave her face at his words, feeling as if he had lifted a hand and literally caught her across the face with it. "No. No!" she cried, her heart breaking. "I would never-" And she shook her head. "Not to you."

Even as the words left her she felt memories rise from them, the last time the Doctor himself had said that to her. The day she had first found out, had been _confronted_ with one of his previous companions, Sarah Jane.

_Not to you._

"It's coming closer," Latimer said from the door of the barn, looking back over his shoulder and no longer even showing surprise as more explosions sounded.

"I can give them the watch," John said quietly.

Rose whipped her head back around and stared at him. "What?"

"The watch," John said, excitement almost seeming to enter his voice. "I can give them the watch. That's what they came for after all. I can give them this." He waved the fob watch. "And they can go and leave me as I am! It's so simple-"

"You can't _do_ that!" Rose breathed out in a gasp, horrified. And she followed him with her eyes as he sprang toward the barn door, suddenly heaving with excitement. "Doctor-"

"If they want him that bad they can have him. And then they'll leave us alone. It's perfect-" he called back to her, moving to leave the barn.

_"No!"_ Rose screamed at him and she darted up beside him, her hand wrapping around his arm and yanking him back around to face her. "That's what he didn't want! If they take him they'll live forever! They'll wreak havoc, they'll conquer this world, all the others! You can't give them that watch!"

He glanced at her, the look turning into a stare as she heaved in terror. The silence between them, full of electrified sparks, also seemed to hover heavily. The expression on his face stated that he didn't understand how the idea could be wrong and could bring such fear to her face. She merely waited for him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her heart a hammer. Blinking, searching her face, John moved to speak. And then, thinking twice, he turned to look toward the barn door over his shoulder, saying to the boy quietly, "Tim, leave us a moment. Please."

Latimer looked from him to Rose before nodding curtly and disappearing from the barn door.

Rose turned to him as John hesitated, eyes still caught on the sky outside. And his eyes drifted to the fob watch as he lifted his hand again, as he looked down at the thing. Rose looked at it as well, kept her eyes on it as she felt John lift his gaze to her once more. She couldn't hear anything from the watch herself but she suddenly felt the presence of her Doctor more than she had in the last three months and she wanted to reach out and snatch it, to hold it against her heart.

"He won't love you," John whispered to her downturned face, his voice so soft and yet seeming to echo in the eerie silence.

Eyes widening, Rose's head snapped up to meet his glare head on. "Don't say that," she uttered, blinking at him.

"He won't," John said again, his jaw clenched firmly even as tears swam in his eyes. "Not the way I will."

Rose backed away a step under his gaze, feeling as if he could read her clear through. And she couldn't let him see what she held inside, what she thought and especially not what she felt. "That's…I'm fine with that," she stammered, squaring her shoulders. "I don't need him to. I just need to know that he cares for me. And I already know that. I'd rather that, those feelings from him, and the promise that he'll protect everyone out there. I can live with all that." And she bowed her head, her voice falling. "I already am."

John took a step toward her, his face turning sorrowful once more, his lips parting to speak.

"And I'm fine!" she cried, realizing a moment later that it still hurt, all the lying. John's words had hit closer to home than she would have liked but she had always known, right from the beginning, that what the Doctor felt for her was not what she felt for him. She had always known anyway. "I'm fine with…with-"

A moment later, as she was whispering the words, convincing herself of them even as she attempted to convince him, John had taken hold of her. He dragged her to him, his hand clutching the fob watch and then her hand as well. Their hands met, the fob watch between their palms and his mouth closed over hers, dragging her breath from her and at the same time seeming to give almost everything of him. She meant to pull away, had half a mind to, because they were just delaying the inevitable. But she found after an instant that she didn't want to, that she wanted just this one moment with him, any version of him. Human or Time Lord, just one moment.

And between them she heard his voice, soft and so very much like the Doctor, the tone seeming to recognize her and almost marvel in her presence joyfully.

_Rose…_

Warmth spread through her, a haze rising in her mind and she saw images, visions. Even under the scent that was John Smith, through the heat that was their joined clasp, all she saw was a vision of herself and the Doctor, standing on a cold beach. A beach she remembered only not dressed the way she had been when she had been stranded there. But at her side now, taking her hand and looking down at her with a soft expression was her Doctor. Because only her Doctor dressed like that, though she had never seen him in those colors together. Blue and purple, a purple T-shirt under his blue suit. And there was something different about him though she couldn't put her finger on it just yet. Not just yet, floating out of her grasp.

But what she did see in his face, in his eyes, was exactly what she had always seen in her Doctor's eyes. Only now it was all that was there. Her Doctor had always had so much more hidden away in the blackness of his gaze, in his winter moonlit eyes. The burden of his lost planet and people. The task he had taken upon himself to travel the universe, to be the protector of her tiny planet and this entire timeline. All the things he had sacrificed. It had always been there in his eyes.

This man here, at her side, holding her hand, had none of that. Only hope in his eyes, and all she saw was her face reflected in that dark gaze of his. Even as she found that she couldn't smile at him, not just yet because somehow it was all new to her, she was looking at him through to his core. And he loved her. In the way he held her hand, in the way he gazed at her silently, he _loved_ her.

As she was floating in the mere emotion in his eyes, the vision of him and the beach floated away and she was standing on a street corner in the rain, in the night, shivering but laughing, the Doctor at her side. And as she melted into his arms, giggling, he was waving down a taxi, pulling the door open and ushering her in. In the darkness of the taxi, as he gave silent directions, mouthing them to the driver, he was turning to her just as she was leaning into him and kissing him gently, lovingly.

_Two am. Grabbing a taxi home._

She didn't know that person. Not just yet. But that wasn't John Smith in her arms. It was the Doctor.

The scene that blossomed from there was of a wedding and she realized with a start that it was _her_ wedding. She was sprinting down the aisle, no doubt breaking all sorts of rules and traditions, sunlight beaming down on her. At the foot of the aisle, picking at his collar uncomfortably, the Doctor had only a moment to recover before she had flung herself into his arms. And to the horror of the crowd assembled, some strangers, others familiar enough to bring tears to her eyes, she was dragging the Doctor away. Past the crowd, around the foundation of a very familiar mansion, to a tiny wooden shed where the TARDIS waited when she flung the door open. And in her wedding dress, literally lifting the hem to her hip, the Doctor's hand clutched in hers, she was pushing in through the TARDIS doors, laughter on her lips. Behind her, the Doctor also seemed excited, though a bit worried by the looks he continued to send over his shoulder. And she could read her mother's name on his lips as he motioned back the way they had come with a shaky finger. But she didn't care.

She didn't care _at all._

The images shifted again with her barely able to keep up. As the next scene opened she was in a white bed, monitors beeping around her and she was waving her hands, beckoning to something that she couldn't yet see. A moment later her mother appeared, clutching a small bundle in her arms, tears on her jubilant face. Shifting somehow, changing the angle, she could see what her mother was holding and it was a baby, the Doctor leaning against the doorframe of the sterile room. And she had no idea what was going on but the baby was hers, a baby girl, and the Doctor looked completely tired but beaming somehow, his tie askew, his hair just as wild.

And the baby was his as well.

She was heaving, lost in a kiss, and lost in a memory that hadn't yet been born. But somehow she knew it was to be one of her memories. Even as her very mind screamed at her that the Doctor would never stay in that way with her, that they would never catch that taxi at 2am, and that he would never wish to be tethered to the Earth with her and their children, she was still clutching at it with straining fingers. Just trying to hold on to it all, trying to make sense of them and trying not to all the same.

And they kept coming, the memories. The visions. Two children, a girl and a younger boy, the park. It seemed to be autumn, the children dressed warmly, and herself smiling down at the boy, her son, as the Doctor lifted the girl onto his shoulders and motioned toward the gray sky.

_Is this my life?_

In her arms John had frozen up, still holding her, their hands clamped together over the fob watch which seemed to sear their joined clasp.

_Is this my life?_

They all came, those strange visions, those lost memories. They couldn't come true, not with the Doctor. For even as she tried to convince herself that it was him, that she could have a family with him, the last scene in her mind was one of him in bed, so painfully old. And the Doctor didn't age. He only regenerated. And as she thought the words, as she saw visions of the old Doctor and images of the Doctor as she knew him now, she almost felt John begin to fade away. She saw all the things they had ever done, herself and the Doctor, all the running, all the laughing and so much death and destruction. But it had all been done to protect people, all those sacrifices. It had been done with a purpose even as every death had ripped her apart, had driven the Doctor to his knees.

_It was all for something!_

The cry echoed in her head as she pulled free of the kiss, gasping for air. And John was before her, also heaving, enclosed in a dark barn once more. "Did you-" she uttered breathlessly, confused. "Did you see-"

John released her slowly, gingerly, and his fingers alone closed around the fob watch in his palm. Rose watched him, every part of her aching, and she took a step even as he backed away from her.

"Did you see it?" Rose asked him yet again, feeling as if she strained with the question. "That was him. That was the Doctor. All the things he's done. Every disaster he stopped. Everything he's given up. Did you see all that?"

He was hesitant to speak but as he did so a shadow floated away from his face. He lifted his head to her, gazing deep into her eyes and she was uncertain what he saw there but she was quite certain of what she felt. "I saw you happy," John whispered to her and she felt her heart trip over itself at his words. "That's all I need to see."

Looking down once more, at the watch in his hand, John backed away from her further and nodded, perhaps to himself. Perhaps to her. She didn't know then. But as he suddenly turned to the barn entrance she felt his name leave her lips, fright rising in her and rooting her to her spot. "John-"

He paused at the entryway, Tim appearing once more before him. Looking toward the boy he whispered something and motioned back toward Rose. Tim nodded silently and then John was gone, disappearing out through the doorway.

"Wait-" Rose called after him, hurrying forward.

And Tim took hold of her, stopping her. "He's going to take care of it, he said. All of it."

* * *

When he returned for her, he was the Doctor once more. He came to find them both sitting in the darkness of the barn, silence surrounding them like a thick blanket. Upon seeing him she had streaked to her feet and then paused, studying him intently, fearfully. Searching for that wintry moonlight. And upon recognizing her Doctor in the man's eyes she had thrown herself at him. The embrace they shared was silent but still enough to break her into tears and he had held her throughout, allowing for her to sob against him painfully and then calm until she was silent as well. And with Tim following wordlessly he had led them out back toward the school under the dawning rain, and then back toward where the TARDIS stood after leaving Tim at the school. The creatures had taken the TARDIS in their search for the Time Lord and had hidden it away in the fields. Those creatures were nowhere to be found now and when she gingerly asked about them the Doctor merely sent her a long silent look, one that clearly stated it was best not to ask.

And as they stood now on a hill, before the TARDIS and in a slight drizzle, he was suddenly reverting once more. All wide smiles, brushing everything aside as if it were mere lint on his suit. As if the last three months had never even happened.

Rose gazed down at him as he climbed the hill toward her, garbed once more in her usual clothes, a leather jacket against the rain and the sleeves dragged down over her fists. He returned the look, smiling up at her as he neared, and she couldn't help but suddenly see John Smith there. He was the one that was lost now, after everything. And all that he had said to her was going to haunt her, she knew. His words haunted her now and it took all of her strength to return a watery smile to the Doctor, to just hold back from breaking down into sobs again. If the tears did happen to fall, she would blame it on the rain anyway. It would just need to rain a bit harder was all.

"Ready to go?" he asked her cheerily.

She hesitated, her eyes lifting toward the TARDIS and then toward the fields surrounding them. Far off she could see the lonely form of a scarecrow hanging in the rain and that was how she suddenly felt. Hung up, wet and so very abused. "Are _you?"_ she asked him quietly.

"Oh yes," he said with an emphatic nod, already trudging forward and coming up beside her to unlock the doors of the TARDIS.

She watched him fiddle with the key in the lock for a moment before reaching out and staying his hand. Pausing with the lock he turned his head to look at her, a small movement and a shifting of the eyes. "Do you…do you remember it?" she asked him, observing him intently, from the slant of his eyes to the curve of his mouth. "Everything that he went through?"

He answered gradually, almost reluctantly. "Yes."

Feeling a small tremor rise at his answer, understanding that he remembered _everything_ from the leather-bound journal to the kiss in the barn, Rose inhaled to calm the shudder. "It wasn't you," she whispered to him weakly and she suddenly knew exactly what she had to say. What he needed to hear so that they could continue to travel together, continue to be friends. "He wasn't you. He was human. And I don't blame you for anything he did. Anything he…felt."

She did not imagine it when he swallowed almost imperceptibly. But he bowed his head, his hands weary against the key and the TARDIS lock. "I…should have seen it coming, I suppose," he said slowly, thoughtfully. "The TARDIS gave me false memories. A false life in a human body, stripping me of everything that would make me a Time Lord. But the TARDIS would not, _will_ not, radically change feelings. Emotions. It was…blind of me. Something I should have been aware of."

Rose frowned faintly, her hand still upon his. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

A slight glare darkening her face she said, "Don't do that. Tell me what you mean."

The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment, breathing shallowly. And then, wearily, he leaned his weight against the door of the TARDIS, halting all efforts to open the lock. "What he felt for you…" he said, his head turned to her but his eyes still shut tightly as he made to explain. "No. _Me._ What _I_ felt for you. It's always…" He broke off and lifted his head to the TARDIS, his eyes opening and focusing blindly on the wood. "The TARDIS used that. And when the memories were taken away, when the new ones were added in their place, the only restrictions he had, according to his life here, in this time…"

Rose was frowning, trying so very hard to understand him. And then suddenly she did understand. Quite clearly. He just couldn't say it aloud. The same way he would never be able to voice what he felt for her. Ever.

John Smith had been stronger in the end, stronger in a way. Perhaps the Doctor did love her. Perhaps she could go so far as to say he was _in_ love with her. John Smith, with all the rules of his life, of his society, had broken them still when it had come to her. Those had been his restrictions. He had been willing to set aside everything to be with her, a maid. And he had been willing to give up so much more than that for her. He had sacrificed it all in the end. Just to see her happy, even if it was to be with someone else.

The Doctor, however, with everything he felt and everything he needed of her, would never break his own rules to allow himself that same moment. The last of his kind. The Last of the Time Lords. It was all he would ever be. And he owed so much to the people who had perished. All those burdens, all those horrors he carried. He would never forgive himself. And he would never leave it for her.

But living vicariously through John Smith, he had allowed himself a moment. Even as he said that he should have known, she believed then, for the smallest instant, that he had known exactly what he had been doing when he had stored away his Time Lord self in the fob watch. He had known exactly how John Smith would feel for his maid because-

"You knew, didn't you?" she asked him quietly. And when he looked at her again, almost blindly, she said, "You knew, when you became human. It's like you said. The TARDIS can change you, but she can't change what you feel. She can change what you are, can change all your memories. But how you feel…about anything…she can't take that from you."

"She can only build on it," he murmured and his eyes were suddenly focused on her intently, seeming to will her to understand words he was yet incapable of voicing. "She can only build around it." He nodded, his eyes falling away, his feet scuffing at the wet ground beneath him. "It was only a matter of time before John Smith would fall in love. He wanted to fall. He had needed it."

Rose felt her breath tangle slightly in her chest, her thoughts whispering every so quietly in her head.

_Because you needed it._

The Doctor nodded once more, murmuring. "Human affection… Biological. Blessedly complex. And yet…so very simple. As simple as a sunrise, a sunset."

Rose gazed at him, wishing he would lift his face so she could meet his eyes but he would not. Her hand reached out from inside her jacket and she lifted a wet palm to his cheek, her fingers digging into his jaw regretfully. He turned his head into her hand, pressing his face against her skin and exhaling raggedly, his eyes shutting tightly.

She gazed at him, wanting to say so much then. He had needed her and she had been there, waiting for him unknowingly. She would always be there for him, waiting for him even if he never came for her. She would _still_ be there. She had made a promise long ago and there would never be anything to change that. Never. Unable to help herself she closed the distance between the two of them, lifting her lips to his brow and kissing him gently, smoothing away the lines there. And doing so, she paused before she lowered her chin, pressing her head to his and exhaling shakily. She didn't want to say it, didn't want to break this feeling they had between them, even as it hovered fragilely. As if the smallest wrong word would ruin it.

"It could have happened to anyone, yeah?" she asked him hesitantly, her voice leaving her through a thick block in her chest, still looking to give him that way out. "He could have met someone at the school. Matron, maybe?" And she pulled away just enough, tilting her head to try to reach his eyes.

He did look at her then, a long measured gaze, as if he wanted to see deep into her, to everything she thought and make her understand everything he himself thought. Wanted. Needed. But as she maintained her stare, even as her fingertips kneaded the flesh of his neck and jaw, she didn't let him see. Perhaps she was afraid in the end. Perhaps she didn't want to ruin anything that they already had between them, their simple yet powerful relationship. Perhaps what they had was just good enough for the kind of people they were.

_I can always just have those memories, those images. If one day we do split up, if he leaves me behind the way he said he wouldn't. I can always think of that life we didn't have. _

After a moment of silence the Doctor flashed her a wide smile, one that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Yes. It could have been anyone, I think." He hesitated a moment against her palm still before finally pulling out of reach of her hand, turning his attention back to unlocking the TARDIS door.

Rose dragged her hand back in toward herself, pulling it into the cuff of her jacket silently.

"But…" he suddenly said, pausing once more. "I'm glad it was you." And this time, when he looked at her, there was the slightest hint of warmth in that smile. And the smallest shadow of wistful regret.

She watched him as he turned back to the task at hand, as he finally unlocked the door and pushed it open. Opening her mouth, she went to speak, to say something that suddenly fled her mind as a voice called to them.

"Doctor! Rose!"

They both turned, the Doctor pulling back out from the doorway. Coming up to meet them, Tim Latimer was smiling.

"Tim-Timothy-Timber!" The Doctor called with a grin, facing the boy as he reached them and nodded to Rose in greeting.

"Are you leaving now?" Tim asked, pausing before them, hands hidden away in his pockets shyly.

"Yes, just," the Doctor replied, Rose sending the boy a smile as she leaned back against the TARDIS.

The boy nodded. "Well, I just wanted to say goodbye. And thank you. For everything. And also to apologize for hiding the watch from you." He ducked his head. "When I touched the watch, I could see things. Things that are to come. Next year. The biggest war ever." And he looked at them intently.

The Doctor nodded.

"You don't have to fight," Rose said to him, her arms lifting to cross over her chest. The cold drizzle was beginning to seep through the collar of her jacket, winding down into her skin. "You could get hurt."

Tim smiled widely, motioning to the Doctor. "So could you, traveling with him. But it's not going to stop you."

Rose stared at him, suddenly seeing him quite clearly in the rain, at his brilliant smile, and the Doctor beside her as he returned Tim's smile with a wide grin. He was right, of course. But it wouldn't stop her. It would never stop her.

"I wanted you to have this," the Doctor was saying and from his pocket he produced the fob watch. Rose glanced at him as he held it out to the boy and then looked at Tim as he accepted it carefully.

Hesitating a moment, the boy said quietly, "I don't hear anything from it anymore." And he looked at the Doctor questioningly.

"Well, no, it's just a watch now," the Doctor responded, motioning. "But I'd be honored if you would keep it. For good luck." And he looked at Rose, nodding.

Rose returned the nod before turning to Tim. "Be careful, Tim." And she reached out to embrace him tightly. She doubted she would ever see him again but in the last few hours that they had come to know each other, in the worst of times, she realized she would miss him. She sighed into the hug and then pulled away.

Next year, when the first World War broke, would he go to fight? Would he survive? She had learned to stop questioning so many things. From the very first death up until today, she had learned to do all that she could and to then let go. This here would be no different.

With a last smile, the Doctor nodded to Tim and said, "You'll like this bit." And holding out his hand to Rose he led her into the TARDIS and finally shut the door behind them.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Twenty-Five: Torchwood**

"I love your jobs," Jack said with an impish grin and he sat back in his seat as Gwen leaned against the doorway, staring at the Doctor. She had always assumed that he was a doctor of medicine. But now, standing behind him slightly and watching him chat quietly with Jack, she understood so much more. He was no doctor. He was something special and she understood why Jack always waited for him to come calling. He had the aura of someone who would offer a person the world if they wanted it. All the excitement, all the challenges to do something new and different. This was what the Doctor offered.


	26. Torchwood

**A/N: **Happy Turkey Day, folks! I'll be gone for the weekend and probably running around like a chicken with my head cut off so if I don't get back to your reviews too soon, forgive me!

**Chapter Twenty-Five - Torchwood:**

The hub was empty. Pausing at the door leading out of the second room office, Jack Harkness was not easily deterred by an empty hub. A bit suspicious of it, perhaps. Alarmed, not so much. He peered down to the bottom floor and then cocked his head to the main doors. "Ianto? Gwen?" he called out, hearing his voice echo the tiniest bit. "You two in here?" When mere silence greeted him, he came out a bit more cautiously.

What were the chances he would make it from this room to the doors of the hub? And not be accosted by-

"Jack," Gwen's voice came from his first floor office.

He exhaled wearily and leaned against the railing, "Yes, Gwen?"

"There's something on your desk here…this little piece of something. And it's moving…" came her voice sounding uncertain.

Jack hesitated a small moment, a frown crossing his face. "A little piece of what? There's nothing on my desk that should move-" He came to a sudden stop, realization crossing his face. "What piece, Gwen? The piece of coral?"

"I think so," she called back and she came to the doorway of his office as he flew down the metal stairs toward her. As he made it to the main floor he caught sight of her holding a file to her chest, gazing in bemusement at the piece of coral on his desk. "What is that?"

Just as he made it to the doorway to stare in shock at the coral, the door of the hub began to open with a hiss and a mechanical whirr. He spun around, Gwen glancing up behind him, and as the door rolled open he could hear the voices before he saw the men.

"Oh, it's brilliant!" came the very familiar voice, sounding quite excited and full of glee. "Never been inside this Torchwood. Not a fan of Cardiff, personally. But then, there was never really a reason for me to ever want to visit this place. Did you know Torchwood was originally created because of me? Queen Victoria. Oh, she didn't like me-"

Jack came out, a small smile crossing his face as the door finished opening.

The Doctor looked toward him, hands in coat pockets, smiling cheerfully at Ianto beside him who quickly moved down the stairs and came toward Jack. "Found him outside, waiting for someone. I asked if I could help him. Told me he wanted to see you," he explained, motioning back toward the Doctor.

"And you let him in?" Jack asked with a cheeky smile.

"Oh, don't give me that," the Doctor threw at him and he came in, lifting a lean leg to step through and onto the main floor of Torchwood. "It's nice, I admit. A bit sterile. Kind of cold. But lovely. Feels efficient." And as he came down to join Ianto at his side he looked past Jack into his office. "Oh, hello there! I'm the Doctor!"

Gwen came forward quickly, a bit thrown by the cheerfulness of the newcomer. "Gwen Cooper," she introduced herself, holding out her hand to take his and smiling as he grinned widely at her. "Friend of Jack's?"

The Doctor glanced at Jack, still shaking her hand thoughtfully. "I should say so. I've known him for years, really."

"Doctor…?" Ianto prodded him curiously.

He glanced at the well-dressed younger man, hesitating. "Just…the Doctor."

"Doctor of what?" Gwen inquired, glancing sideways at Jack as Ianto asked, "Doctor _who?"_

_"My_ Doctor," Jack answered them and he gently pushed Gwen into Ianto and then grabbed hold of the Doctor's shoulder, pulling him back toward the office. "Ianto, a coffee and a tea please!"

"Yes, sir," came the sigh and then he was off.

"But I can stay, right?" Gwen asked with an inquisitive smile.

"No-" Jack managed to make out although the Doctor looked at her with a small shrug.

"I don't see why not," the Doctor said as Jack threw him a knowing look and then circled his desk to seat himself behind it. "It's a job, really. Something I need your help with." He lifted a hand to the back of his head and scratched uncomfortably.

"I love your jobs," Jack said with an impish grin and he sat back in his seat as Gwen leaned against the doorway, staring at the Doctor. In the small moment that they had turned their attention to each other she had been hit with the memory, all her memories, of Jack mentioning the Doctor. And she had always assumed that he was a doctor of medicine. But now, standing behind him slightly and watching him chat quietly with Jack, she understood so much more. He was no doctor. He was something special and she understood why Jack always waited for him to come calling. He had the aura of someone who would offer a person the world if they wanted it. All the excitement, all the challenges to do something new and different. This was what the Doctor offered.

"I need you to come on a trip with me," the Doctor said to Jack quietly. "I can't make the trip myself, to see her."

Jack's cheer fell away. "Her," he stated. And as the Doctor stared at him, realization crossed his face. _"Her?"_

The Doctor was silent at his question.

"She's…I thought she was stuck somewhere else. Another universe," Jack said to him questioningly.

"Not anymore," the Doctor said and there was a note of sadness in his tone.

Jack stared at him. "Not anymore?" he echoed blankly. "How long _'not anymore?'_ You could've told me, I haven't seen her since…since Satellite 5," he demanded and then paused. "Well. Unless you count those two times I went to see her growing up. Shouldn't count. I didn't talk to her," he said quickly as the Doctor threw him an arched brow. "And why me? Not that I mind seeing her. I've missed her actually! But why not Martha? Or that new one you had with you the last time? The redhead? She was pretty. A bit of a loudmouth but that can come in handy, I guess-"

"I already sent Donna. And Martha Jones is gone."

His words were clipped and hard. Jack came to a dead stop, Gwen stiffening against the wall. "What do you mean gone?" she asked quietly. And as the Doctor looked toward her with a shadowed expression, disbelief crossed her face, a hand coming to rest across her mouth. "Like…dead-gone? How? What-"

"Doesn't matter," the Doctor replied and he went to continue, his mouth opening. Then it merely snapped shut, his shoulders falling wearily and he turned from them, a hand lifting to his face.

"What the hell did you do?" Jack asked him in a whisper.

The Doctor didn't reply, his fingers rubbing his eyes and then sliding down his face heavily as he faced the far wall of Jack's office.

_"What the hell did you do?"_ Jack sprang from his seat and shouted at him.

The Doctor turned his head in his direction, his hand cupping his chin, his other hand lifting to prop on his hip. "Another time," he said to Jack. "I'll explain another time. For now-"

"No, you're going to explain this now!" Jack ordered, pointing down before him vehemently.

_"Another time,"_ the Doctor cut him off and his face was dark, his tone cold. "Another time that isn't now. Once this is over, I'll explain it all." And he motioned to Jack absentmindedly, wearily. "Right now, I need you to come with me. To see her."

Jack looked at him in stunned confusion. "Is she next?" he asked him curiously. "Because I'll go. I'll go for her. To help her. Just tell me what, when, where. Anything-"

"Come with me, then," the Doctor said quietly. "And I'll explain in the TARDIS."

Jack hesitated and his eyes flew to Gwen for a quick moment. The Doctor also looked toward her over his shoulder, his other hand dropping to his hip as well.

"We'll be fine," she said to his unanswered question.

With a small nod at her statement Jack reached to the back of his seat and pulled on his greatcoat, checking his weapons at his sides as well.

"You won't need those," the Doctor said to him quietly.

Jack turned a cold look on him. "I bet you said the same thing to Martha." And without another word he breezed past him, his hand coming to rest on Gwen's shoulder and squeezing comfortingly before releasing her and floating out.

The Doctor went to follow and his eyes came to pause on Gwen as she reached out for a moment to bar his exit.

"Take care of him for us," she said to him softly. "Please."

The Doctor remained quiet for a second longer than she would have liked. And looking into her eyes he knew she understood that there was no way for Jack Harkness to die. But then he nodded wordlessly and followed after Jack.

As she turned to walk them out with her gaze, she caught the tension between the two of them as they passed through the hub door, long coat tails flying behind their tall figures. And as it closed behind them she was sure the tension also remained in the hub, silent but present.

"Coffee and tea," Ianto announced, coming out of a side room and looking about upon finding the hub empty except for Gwen.

She gave him a weary smile.

* * *

The Doctor was starving. Again. She was not surprised, she told herself as she slipped on her trainers. "I'm just going for chips!" she cried as he peeked out from under the TARDIS console. She smiled widely, crouching beside him for a moment and running a fingertip down his temple.

He stilled as she did so, staring at her. Then his eyes dropped to her fingertip as she displayed it for him. It was soiled with a dark greasy substance.

"It's all over your face," she let him know as she stood to her feet once more. "But it's cute. Good look for you. Your usual?" she called as she wound around the console toward the ramp.

His voice sounded from behind her, distant as he slid under the console once more. "Yep. Two orders! I'm starving-"

"Yeah, yeah," she smirked as she opened the doors of the TARDIS and floated through. He had conveniently set down the TARDIS two blocks from the shop and the breeze was cool today. Spring already? She couldn't really be sure. Perhaps fall now. She zipped up her sweater, hands finding their way into her pockets as she picked up her pace. Was she picking up three orders then? Was it breakfast time? She was in the mood for a tea as well.

Entering the small shop she smiled at the waitress and asked for three orders of chips. There was tea at the TARDIS, she would just make them some. Was there anything she was forgetting? Had he asked for something more?

"Hello, Rose."

Sitting up away from the counter, she turned to look over her shoulder.

Jack Harkness stood at the doorway of the shop.

For a moment she merely stared at him. He wore a long military great coat, his figure leaning against the doorframe. And never before had she been so happy to see someone that she hadn't seen in such a long time. She turned, standing fully, and faced him, her limbs growing cold. "My God, Jack."

He smiled at her, a very easy grin, arms crossed over his chest. "Rose Tyler. I never thought I would see you again."

Rose skipped right over his words, already moving toward him. She lifted her arms and immediately threw them around his neck, holding on for dear life. "Oh my God. Oh my God," she uttered over and over, as his arms lifted to embrace her tightly, dragging her against his tall frame.

He chuckled into her ear, lifting her clear off her feet and she laughed with him, throwing her head back as he spun them around. She remembered the last time his arms had been around her, the last time he had held her. She had been completely taken with him, swept right off her feet. Until he had been stacked against the Doctor and then he had paled in comparison. But for a small moment it had been her and Jack and the world had existed only for them.

He set her down, refusing to let her go for a moment. She didn't mind it, breathing him in and finding his scent very familiar and yet alien at the same time. This was Jack Harkness from Satellite 5. But then this was Jack Harkness from so many other places that she had never known. She pulled back from him and lifted her hands to his face, taking it between her palms and merely staring at him for an instant. "I can't believe it. Jack."

"The one and only," he grinned at her.

Gazing at him, her hands pressed to his face, she whispered, "What are you doing here? We left you on Satellite 5..." And she bowed her head, her expression mournful. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to leave you. I never meant-"

"I want to show you something," he said, cutting her off cleanly. As she stared at him, questioning him, he shrugged at her. "It'll be fast. Promise."

She hesitated. "W-why can't we just talk? Why-"

"Just come with me. It'll be fast," he said again, and he lifted his hands, taking hold of her wrist and bringing it away from his face.

She blinked at him, her eyes flying from her hands to his face. "Ok, ok. Show me. What is it?" And she motioned to him with her free hand, a firm point of her index finger. "But once you're done we're going to talk. We _have_ to talk. I can't believe-" Her hand having been forced to his wrist, she abruptly broke off as she found herself clutching a clunky wristband he wore. "What is that?"

Jack shoved back his coat cuff and jabbed several buttons on the wristband as she merely stared.

"Oh, wait," she said, motioning over her shoulder as the waitress cleared her throat behind them. "My chips-"

A moment later she gasped as power suddenly thrummed up their joined figures, lighting up with a blue glow. Then they vanished, the air almost imploding as they were teleported away.

* * *

**Next Chapter - Chapter Twenty-Six: The Third Visit**

But she didn't hear him anymore. She didn't hear any of it anymore. Suddenly it all just made perfect sense. Perfect, _miserable_ sense.

"I'm not supposed to be here," she whispered almost inaudibly.


	27. The Third Visit

**Chapter Twenty-Six – The Third Visit:**

They appeared outside the Millennium Centre. For a moment Rose stumbled, holding onto Jack's wrist for dear life. And as she regained her footing she looked about, whirling. "What the hell did you just do?" she uttered, eyes widening at finding herself completely gone from her last location. "Wait...Cardiff? We're in Cardiff?" she demanded. And she spun back toward Jack, her face expressing irritation. "You brought me to _Cardiff? _Why did you bring me here?"

He took hold of her hand as she shouted at him, his grip firm. Silently, he dragged her as he darted to the side, looking around intently and then pausing on the outskirts of Roald Dahl Plass. "I want you to see something. I want you to understand what exactly is going on-"

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

And a moment later she fell silent as the familiar thrum of the TARDIS echoed in the air. She stiffened, whirling toward the sound and sure enough the TARDIS was appearing, blinking in and out of existence. She stared at it, watching as the phone box settled onto the ground and she took a blind step toward it.

Jack's hand curled around her wrist, dragging her back. "No, no, Rose. We stay here," he stated.

She looked at him, confused. "Why? What the hell is going on here, Jack?" she demanded.

"He's here to refuel," Jack explained, staring at her. "Don't you remember? We're sitting on the temporal rift. He's brought the TARDIS here for a sec before he takes off again_._ It's why he's here. Why _they're_ here."

She stared at him. "Who's they?" she asked him faintly.

He didn't reply, instead motioning out across the expanse of the Millennium Centre.

She turned back around, looking at the phone box. And from the far side she saw him running. Quite literally, a double of Jack Harkness was racing toward the TARDIS, great coat floating behind his figure. She stumbled over her next words, blinking in disbelief. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

_"Doctor!"_ Jack Harkness was shouting as he ran wildly, attempting to reach the TARDIS.

A moment later the phone box began to shift, blinking out of existence, the sound reaching her once more. It did nothing to deter the other Jack as he dove for the TARDIS. Then, as she watched, the TARDIS disappeared, taking Jack with it as he clung to the side screaming.

Rose watched it vanish, confusion overwhelming her. Turning to Jack, she frowned at him. "Ok, talk to me. Tell me what the hell is going on. Why did you bring me here? _When_ are we-"

Jack shushed her, his hand lifting to her. "Stop and just listen to what I have to say. For a minute. I'll explain everything. But I need you to listen to me-"

"Then talk," she ordered, her face dark. And she waited for him, her fists clenched at her sides.

Jack straightened once more, looking off blindly. "Ok, what you just saw? I didn't see it. Personally, right now, I didn't see anything. But I know you did. And it really did happen. Just not here. And not to _me._"

Rose continued to merely stare at him. "What just happened there? With you running for the TARDIS? You didn't see that? Right now, you didn't see what just happened? But you're standing right next to me-"

Jack gazed at her and his expression turned sorrowful. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm not your present Jack. I'm from the future and I was sent back to you."

She frowned slightly. "Meaning?"

Jack hesitated. "Meaning I was sent back from the future with a warning for you. The way Martha was. The way Donna was."

Rose stared at him for a long moment, her tongue sliding behind her teeth as she contemplated his words. Then she turned from him with a bitter look clouding her face. "Donna. And Martha. And now you. Of course that's what this is. Because it wouldn't be anything else. Not when it comes to the _Doctor."_ And she broke off, her shoulders beginning to tremble as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Jack gazed at her as she turned her face from him. "What you just saw...that was what was meant to be. That's an alternate reality that's crossed into ours. That's what you just saw. This happens in the immediate future, but not _your_ immediate future." And Jack's face was hard stone as he spoke.

Rose stood silent, her frame rigid.

"In that TARDIS, the Doctor and Martha were just thrown a trillion years into the future because the TARDIS was trying to escape _me._ The TARDIS was running from _me_ because I'm wrong. Because you _made_ me wrong!" Jack explained, and he clamped his mouth shut at his last words, his face somber.

Rose glared at him, her eyes beginning to redden. "Don't say that," she whispered.

Jack paused, searching for the proper words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. But I needed you to see this. I needed you to understand why I'm here."

"Then just _talk_ to me," she demanded of him. She waved her arm, motioning across the plaza. "Instead of all these…_theatrics_, just tell me what the hell is going on!" And as she cried it she drew closer to him, taking hold of his coat in trembling hands. _"Tell me._ No one ever wants to tell me, never wants to help me understand-"

"Because we _can't_ tell you," he cut her off quietly. "We can't tell you anything of the future, Rose, because we don't know what we're going to change. I can tell you not to go with the Doctor tomorrow, not to go wherever he wants to take you. But who knows what kind of ripple that will cause further down the line. I can't make you change that. But I can warn you. And I can help you understand that everything that happens…" he broke off, merely gazing at her for a moment.

She returned the stare, her eyes wide.

"It all happens because the walls are breaking. Because they were broken. Not too long ago, when you were stranded on Bad Wolf Bay, the walls were broken because the Doctor passed through them. He _rammed_ through them, actually. And in doing so, things were changed-"

"I know," she said quickly with a nod of her head. "I know what he did. He did it for me. I was there. But that's done, Jack. The world is moving on with that having happened. Just tell me what happens in the future so that I can…so that…" she broke off, grimacing. "Just tell me what to do to stop it and I will _do_ it-"

"It doesn't work that way," he said to her softly. With a small sigh, he reached out to take her hand and she allowed him numbly, following him as he began to lead her back across the plaza toward the large fountain. She raised her head as they walked, remembering the last time she had been in this place with this man. Mickey had still been with them as had the Doctor in his previous form. Such a long time ago.

Jack paused on a raised tile before the fountain and promptly seated himself on it, patting the spot immediately next to him. Taking it as an invitation, Rose sat beside him, throwing a quick glance at him before turning her head away.

"Where is he?" she asked quietly.

"Who?" Jack returned questioningly.

"The Doctor," she replied. And she looked at him once more. "Your Doctor."

Jack nodded as he understood. "Ah. He's around. Dropped me off and hightailed it but I'm sure he can see us at the moment." And he glanced up at the blue sky overhead, searching it.

She had half a mind to raise her head as well but knew that if they were being monitored, he would not show himself to her. Especially the way Jack and the other visitors had stressed it. She sighed instead, bowing her head and looking at her hands, clasped together across her bent knees. "Ok. Then talk to me. Tell me about…yourself. About what I did. About what happened to you…after we left you." And she paused for a small moment. "I'm really sorry we left you, Jack. A lot of stuff happened, I wasn't awake for it, and we just left. He left. The Doctor."

He was nodding. "I know. I get why he did it, I mean. He told me later why he did it. And he sees the tears now, can monitor them finally. I still can't but he showed them to me, showed me this tear and told me what happens here. Which is also why he brought me to you. And that's why I brought you here. To witness it firsthand." He glanced across the plaza, his jaw firm. "I have to admit, it's a bit…strange to hear about yourself doing things that you didn't do. Things that still happened, though. Even if they didn't happen to you."

Rose frowned at him faintly, silently.

Jack turned to her finally, tilting his head. "I don't have a lot of time to explain things to you. So I'm going to tell you what I can-"

"You have all the time in the world, Jack," she said to that, her eyes darting toward the sky before coming back to him. "He doesn't know what it means to run out of-"

"Not this time," he murmured. And he smiled at her then, sadly. "Things are going to happen that we're only now getting a handle on. He sees those things now, he's tracing them back to where it all begins and we're working from there. He enlisted me to come back to see you but he's actually using my team to help out, too."

"Your team?"

Jack's smile widened at the question. "I run Torchwood Three."

Rose's head dropped a bit and stared as if she hadn't heard correctly. "You run…Torchwood…"

"Three. Yeah," Jack nodded. And he pointed at her cheekily with his index finger. "He had the same reaction to that. Kinda. A bit more mad." He shrugged easily.

Rose blinked at him, stunned. "B-but Torchwood…they…why…"

Jack reached out as she stuttered, his hand coming down on hers and linking their fingers together. Hers were a bit colder than he would have liked. "It's different now. After everything that happened. The Battle of Canary Wharf."

Rose swallowed faintly.

"Now that we know, or are coming close to figuring out where it all starts, we're close to planning a course of action," he went on, his fingers tightening on hers slightly. "We're being sent back to warn you about the things you're seeing. To warn you to expect it. But also to warn you that…something is coming…"

She stared at him. "I know. I keep feeling that. I keep thinking that, too. That something is coming. Something…dark. Something-"

"Be careful, Rose," Jack said then, very quietly. And as she searched his face at his words, his stare was intent, almost prodding her to understand. "The things that are happening…can't be fixed by you. They're only going to be solved by the Doctor. And I wish I could make you understand. All of it. If I could tell you everything that happens, I would. I would be the first on that line to tell you what goes wrong where and what happens because of it. But we're so close now we can almost taste it. And once we figure it all out you'll stop seeing things. You'll stop-"

"How do you know about all that?" she asked him in surprise, coming to a sudden stop. "About me seeing things? Am I the only one-"

"It's what I'm trying to tell you," he replied. "There are certain points that are fixed in time. In this universe. Certain things happened that…forced this universe to branch. Into a new timeline. And whatever you do, do _not_ tell your Doctor what I'm telling you, Rose. If he finds out…well, you know how he feels about us knowing things like that."

"I know," she whispered with a nod.

Jack was continuing on. "Just let him…go on thinking everything is fine. Because everything _is_ fine. We're going to fix this, Rose. I promise you." And his fingers tightened on hers once more.

She sent him a small smile, the quick curl of her mouth.

"But at the same time, I need you to remember my words. That we're doing this, all of this, for you. For him." He bowed his head to catch her eyes and hold them firmly. "Don't let any of this change you. And don't think that you're going crazy. It's not you. It's _really_ everything around you. You're going to keep seeing those things until we can fix what's going on. So don't lose your head. Let us do what we have to do and everything should turn out ok," he advised her.

Rose hesitated as he merely gazed at her upon finishing. "So…one question then. And I'll do what you're telling me to do."

"Go ahead."

She frowned at him, her eyes narrowing in speculation. "If you don't want him to know, my Doctor, and you don't want me to know anything about what's going to happen, so that I can stop it, why do you keep coming to me?" And she arched a brow at him as he bowed his head at her question, as he stopped breathing for a moment. "I mean, wouldn't it have been better to just work in the future without me ever knowing? Why warn me about things that are going to happen if I can't do anything about them?"

A chuckle broke from Jack as she merely continued to stare at him, his breath exhaling in a sigh. "That's…just the question I didn't want you to ask," he murmured against his chest, into his coat, his fingers rigid.

She waited for him.

"Because…" he replied, searching for the proper words. "In the end, everything depends on what you do, Rose. On what you _feel."_ And as she leaned toward him once more in confusion, he added, "That's all I'm going to say to that. That's all I _can_ say to that. Sorry."

She blinked, pulling back as he settled into silence. "That was a rubbish answer, Jack," she mumbled.

"Wasn't it though?" he grinned.

And as he looked at her, all charm and tenderness, she softened. Working one hand free from under his she reached out and pressed it to his face, gazing at him. "I missed you, Jack. I missed you so much."

Jack's grin fainted away into a sad smile. "Come here," he whispered and she obliged, leaning toward him once more and allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

His scent was so very familiar and she remembered him from another time, from a time when he'd had no other responsibilities and no other life except what the Doctor had offered him on the TARDIS. That had been a different world, when he had been with her. When her Doctor had still brooded in leather and darkness, with the manic grin but hollow blue eyes. It had all been such a long time ago. Almost a whole world away.

"How did I make you wrong?" she asked him faintly against his chest, her eyes closing.

He hesitated for a moment. "I didn't mean to say it like that, Rose. That's just…how it was told to me. And I sort of reacted the same way." He shrugged, moving her the slightest bit with the gesture. "I mean…no one wants to be told they're _wrong_. That their whole…existence is wrong-"

"But I did that. I did it. Made you wrong," she whispered. "Because of what happened on Satellite 5. Because of the Daleks. Because I became the Bad Wolf-"

Jack stiffened at her words, his fingers clamping down on her side enough to draw a small sound from her. She blinked, frowning faintly.

"You did nothing wrong," he stated firmly. Almost coldly. "You saved us all on Satellite 5. Because…" And he seemed reluctant to say his next words, his frame so very rigid. "Because you care about everyone. Because you _love_ everyone. There's nothing _wrong_ with that-"

"Then why are _you_ wrong?" she asked softly.

It took him a moment to answer, to find his voice. "I'm wrong…because I…can't die now," he answered slowly.

Rose snapped from him as if he had sent a current through her. _"What?"_

He nodded at her, his arm still around her, his smile returning. "Yeah. You brought me back to life. I was dead there for a while."

Her eyes lost focus at his words, her lips parting as she remembered all those words that had spilled from her mouth and all those thoughts that had flooded her mind in golden light.

_I bring life…_

Jack continued in a hushed voice, drawing her close to him once more. "And when you did…you just did it. You made me immortal. He explained it all to me, the Doctor. Told me that I was _wrong_. That I was a fixed point now. A fact. You know how he talks. But he was…" Jack frowned, grimacing. "He was mad about it. As mad as he can be without destroying a race of people anyway…" He nodded, seeming to remember the conversation quite clearly.

"Really mad?" she asked quietly.

He nodded once more, slowly. "Yeah, pretty much. Said he had to fight himself to come see me. To get my help." And he motioned back toward the plaza. "What you saw there earlier? That was him trying to get away from me." And he grinned as if he had enjoyed the entire spectacle. "It seems he literally can't be around me without wanting to run and hide."

Rose burst out laughing at that against his chest. The mere thought of a Time Lord, of the Doctor himself running, was actually very normal. But to run and hide from Jack was unusual. "I wish I could have been there when he told you that," she giggled.

He laughed too, grinning widely. "Yeah, me too," he responded. And he gazed at her as his laughter died away, as hers did with it. "I miss the old days, Rose."

She held her smile as it threatened to waver, as tears threatened to rise. "Yeah, me too," she murmured thickly. And she gestured to him, attempting to cover the familiar tickling in her nose. "But, now I know where to find you! I know where you are! Torchwood Three! In Cardiff!"

"Cardiff," he nodded with a smile. "Been working for Torchwood for decades now. Finally got to be the big man!"

"Yeah," she grinned.

And his smile softened slightly. "Yeah."

Rose gazed at him for a silent comfortable moment. And then she finally leaned away from him, her hand finding his once more and threading their fingers together. "So, explain to me that whole thing. About you running for the TARDIS. But not. About what happened a few minutes ago. Explain how that's…not in our future."

Jack looked back in the direction where the TARDIS had stood earlier. "Right. The breach," he said with a deep inhalation, thoughtful. "The walls of the universes were…broken. Torn, rather. We've actually branched into a new timeline, breaking off from the original timeline."

Rose nodded intently.

Jack hesitated. "Do you get what that means?" he asked her.

She didn't bat an eyelash. "Not exactly, no."

At her response he nodded. "I figured. Ok. Let's say this is our universe." And he held his hand out on its side, thumb pointing up, fingers clamped together. "Now let's make believe this is the alternate universe that you came from." And he set his other hand down right beside his first so that they were parallel to each other.

Rose stared at him. "How did you know about that?" she asked him in surprise.

"Rose, I know many, many things."

She smiled widely. "Right…"

"So, these are two different universes. They don't mesh. They don't interact at all. But the Doctor traveled between them to get you back. Now, when he did that he weakened the walls of this universe. But on top of it, somewhere along the way, this universe, _our_ universe, branched. Something happened at some point in the timeline to make an all new timeline from the existing one." As her confusion registered with him, he went on quickly, "Let's say you went to the chip shop to get some chips today."

She nodded.

"Now because something happened earlier to branch this timeline, there's now two of you. One who goes to the chip shop and the other who decides she doesn't want chips today. She would rather stay home." He stared at her, eyes wide, to see if she was getting it.

She was intent on his two hands. "So not alternate universes…alternate _timelines._" She whispered.

Jack was smiling once more. "That's what I've been saying," he said just as softly. "There's the other world, Pete's World. Which has nothing to do with this now that you're here. And then there's this world. Parts One and Two. Right now there are two separate time lines, from the same _universe,_ that are meshing together. Which is why, what just happened back there, with my double, isn't happening with _me._"

Rose sat for a moment in stunned silence.

"Same universe, still. Which is why the TARDIS is powered in this universe. Which is why the Doctor exists in both timelines. And these two timelines are mixing. You're seeing things that are happening in that other timeline along with things that are happening in this one. That's why you see Martha sometimes. Why sometimes you see other people, strangers."

But she didn't hear him anymore. She didn't hear any of it anymore. Suddenly it all just made perfect sense. Perfect, _miserable_ sense.

"I'm not supposed to be here," she whispered almost inaudibly.

Jack cocked his head, one hand lifting to point an index finger sternly. "I didn't say that-"

"You didn't have to," she cut him off so very softly. And she turned her head, looking back out over the plaza in silence. So much sense, then. Why didn't she ever see another version of herself? She saw versions of Martha and Donna. They seemed to be all over the place. But she never actually saw herself. "I…never understood-"

Jack's wristband lit up and he looked at it quickly, irritation crossing his face. She ignored it numbly, her eyes suddenly open now. To all of it. It was why she was seeing different people, things that no one else saw. "Why me?" she asked softly and she recoiled as Jack stood to his feet abruptly. He reached a hand down to her and as she took it he hefted her to her feet quickly. "Jack, why me?"

"Why you what?" he asked, clutching her hand and tapping several buttons on his wristband.

"Why am I the only one seeing things?" she demanded, trying to catch his eyes as he pored over his wristband with a grimace.

"Because you're Ground Zero," he replied shortly. And he eyed her, his expression flat. "That's all I'm telling you. We have to go. I may have said something I wasn't supposed to-"

"Where are we going?" she asked tremulously. And suddenly she wanted nothing more than her own world and her own Doctor. She suddenly didn't want to see Jack's Doctor, the alternate version of this timeline's Doctor. Was he like her own? What had happened that had branched the timelines? Was it because of Bad Wolf Bay, because he had come back for her?

Was Jack's Doctor like her own but with his previous incarnation's darkness? Just like her preceding Doctor with the big ears and the wounded soul?

"We have to go," Jack said once more. And this time, when he pressed the buttons on his wristband, she knew what to expect.

* * *

**Next Chapter - Chapter Twenty-Seven: Blood and Glass****  
**  
She wanted to shout that she was here, that she was scared. But she didn't know who would hear her and she didn't dare bring attention to herself with the big bad wolf at the door.


	28. Blood and Glass

**Chapter Twenty-Seven – Blood and Glass:**

The walk back to the TARDIS was slow and filled to the brim with trepidation. Jack had returned her to the shop and had promptly embraced her before vanishing once more, back to his own time. But she had been left with a spooked shop lady and cold chips. To give herself time to think, she had ordered a new batch of chips from the pale shop woman, seating herself back at the counter, worrying her bottom lip until her new order had been ready.

"Where did you go?" the Doctor asked as she let herself into the TARDIS silently, closing the door. At the console he lifted his head toward her and then stared as she floated up the ramp numbly, the chips dangling in a paper bag from frozen fingers.

"I went for chips," she replied quietly. And she set down the bag on the console.

He merely continued to stare at her for a long moment, a quizzical frown on his face. But as she lifted her weary eyes to his he looked at his console once more, his mouth set.

This was the Doctor she knew, the one she loved. The one she trusted with everything that she was. This man here. Jack's Doctor was a stranger to her. Even if Donna and Martha had explained to her about their Doctors, had made it seem like they were the same man, she didn't know him. This man here, with the gold and blue of the console flashing across his face, in that crisp brown suit with the wonderful hair, this man was her Doctor. Merely staring at him, she wanted to rush forward and throw her arms around him, listen to him breathe against her cold frame. Bowing her head, she instead lifted a hand to swipe it across her eyes tiredly and he didn't miss the gesture from the corner of his eye.

"What's in Cardiff?"

Rose stiffened, her hand pressed to her eyes. "Sorry?"

He raised his head, allowing it to fall back as he hit several buttons and yanked on levers, sending them into the time vortex. "I asked what was in Cardiff," he repeated, his face blank.

She didn't like that look he held. "Nothing," she whispered. And her eyes darted sideways quickly, her fingers unconsciously tightening on the console as the TARDIS was jarred in flight. "Well, a temporal rift but that's about-"

He suddenly slammed a hand down on a button, causing her to jump nearly out of her skin. The shaking of the TARDIS died instantly and he ignored the bag of chips as it fell to the grated floor with a solid thump. "Stop playing games," he ordered darkly, turning his face back toward her.

He was angry. She stared at him, her throat unexpectedly bone dry, her chest heaving as irrational fear spiked through her. She opened her mouth to retort that she wasn't playing games, that she would never _dream_ of playing games, not with a Time Lord. But her words froze before they could pass her lips. "H-how did…"

His eyes dropped to her chest and for a moment she had the fleeting thought that he was staring at her in _that_ way. But his lip curled the slightest bit as he motioned to her with a curt nod of his head. "The TARDIS key has a tracking device," he replied and he dropped his eyes to the console once more, fingers flicking across controls, jabbing at buttons.

Feeling the slightest bit of anger peak in between the constant throb of fear, she took a step closer to him, her hand lifting to the TARDIS key dangling from her neck on a chain. "Don't look at me like that," she demanded of him, causing him to lift his head once more in irritation. "Don't look at me like I'm so far below you that I might as well be scum on your-"

"Then stop treating me as if I don't know half the things you do," he threw back coldly, eyes flying down her frame before returning to alight on her face. "And don't think for a moment that I don't know something is up-"

"Wait a minute! So…w-what? You're spying on me then?" she asked shrilly and she pointed at the console screen, causing him to look toward it as well. "That what you do? I leave for a second and you just flip on that monitor to-"

"The TARDIS alerts me when the keys fall out of time," he cut her off. "If you take the key to a different time period and leave the TARDIS behind it's going to let me know that. Quite loudly, in fact," he bit out. And he glared at her, leaning his weight on his palms, pressing down on the console. "I have no reason to spy on you, Rose. I happen to have complete faith in you. Just be sure to let me know if it's worth it." And he held her gaze for a long moment before finally turning his attention back to the trip at hand.

She stared at him as he turned from her, as he continued to set their next course. "Hold on," she said quietly, watching him as his hands darted across the controls of the console, as he yanked on yet another lever. "Doctor, stop for a second."

Jaw clenching, he paused and then stood to his full height, shoulders thrown back. His face was stony, the blue of the TARDIS core doing nothing to warm his features. In silence, head tilted back in that superior way that she couldn't stand, he waited for her, his hands finding their way into his pockets.

"Yes. I went to Cardiff," she began quietly.

He continued to merely wait for her without saying a word.

"And yes, I want you to keep trusting me," she continued, taking a step closer to him. She paused beside the bag of chips on the floor of the TARDIS and bent to retrieve them.

The Doctor watched her as she did so, as she took the bag into her hand and then took another step to set them on the jump seat behind him.

The movement had brought her closer to him. "Your trust is…it means everything to me. I want you to keep trusting me. And I would _never_ do anything to hurt you. Ever," she said to him, needing him to know then. She leaned against the console, her head dropping as she focused blindly on several switches and levers. "But…"

His expression shifted as if he had known that word had been coming. He tilted his head, eyes dropping back to the console. And he absentmindedly began to flick switches once more, looking toward the monitor.

"Hey. Stop and listen for a second," she pleaded with him and she reached out, taking hold of his elbow.

At her insistence he slowed once more, eyeing her hand and then her face as she came closer still, pausing beside him and gazing at him. "I know…that you're mad. I would be mad, too. Half the time I do get mad because you act so _superior_. You always know where we're going and what you're going to show me and I just stumble around after you. I get that you're mad. But I can't tell you what I was doing in Cardiff. I can't even tell you why I went or how I even got there. But I-"

"Jack Harkness," he murmured and as she looked at him in surprise he motioned to the monitor once more, his shoulders heavy. "I picked up on the signature of his vortex manipulator."

She forced a weary smile at that. "Ok, then yes. I went to Cardiff. With Jack. It was a split second thing. He just took me, I didn't see it coming. But that's all it was."

He gazed at her, his earlier anger beginning to float away. "And you can't tell me why he took you," he stated knowingly.

She looked down uncomfortably. "I can't. But if I could, I would've. I would've told you right off and then we'd be eating chips instead of having a row." And she motioned to the bag of chips on the jump seat with a small wave of her hand.

He looked at the chips as well and then back toward the console with a sigh. "This…thing that's going on with you. That's been going on with you. Is it dangerous? Is it something that I need to know about, Rose?" And he looked at her worriedly, his face the slightest bit pale.

She didn't know how to answer that question at all. But she found herself speaking, suddenly feeling the need to comfort him, to convince him that everything was fine. Even if it wasn't. "It's not dangerous. It's just something that happened today. I don't want you to worry about it, Doctor. It's nothing. I promise." And she smiled then, her first real grin since coming back to the TARDIS.

The Doctor didn't look half convinced. But he didn't continue on with the topic, his expression shutting down momentarily. Then, looking toward the bag of chips once more he merely said, "I hope they're not cold. You were gone for a bit."

Her smile slipped gently, tenderly. "I got extra when I saw that it was taking a bit." And she lifted her arms and flung them around his shoulders from the side, pressing her cheek to the back of his neck tightly.

She had caught him off guard with the gesture but after a silent moment he lifted a hand to her arm, the other lifting to circle her waist lightly.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," she murmured against his suit, inhaling his scent and then exhaling wearily.

He sighed with her, shoulders lifting and then falling. "Yeah, I am, too," he replied. And he dragged her closer, finally pressing her to his chest as he inched his frame in her direction.

"But I promise the chips are _fantastic_," she added.

With that his enthusiasm returned, practically yanking her as he spun toward the almost forgotten bag on the jump seat. "They had better be! I'm starving!"

And all she could do was laugh.

* * *

Someone was following her, shadowing her. She stood in a dark hallway, her eyes slowly and reluctantly turning behind her toward the head of the corridor. There was light coming into the corridor from an adjacent room and something moved there. Something bad. She didn't know how she knew that it was bad, she just did. And the feeling of knowing was unnerving. The hairs rose on her body, standing straight on her limbs, rising on the back of her neck. She didn't know what was there. But as it shifted fully in the light seeping into the hallway she knew she couldn't be found there, couldn't be caught.

She opened her mouth to cry for _him_, to call out his name. But no sound came and she was left with nothing but a sore throat and an unspoken cry. Stepping back slightly, she saw the shadow shift again. And she spun around in the opposite direction, looking down the hallway ahead of her. There was another room there in shadow, waiting for her. Taking a step, hearing something behind her, she moved with heavy, leaden limbs. Almost like a horror movie. This was where the victim attempted to escape but fell or tripped. She slid against the wall, her heart beating in her ears and she didn't understand. She didn't know where she was.

_Rose._

She wanted to shout that she was here, that she was scared. But she didn't know who would hear her and she didn't dare bring attention to herself with the big bad wolf at the door. So familiar, this horror. This fright.

_Rose._

Darting along the wall, not wanting to look behind her, she reached the room at the end of the hall and threw herself into it without a second thought. And as she crossed the barrier she found herself in a sterile staircase, a door shutting loudly behind her. She spun back around and found herself on the other side of a metallic door suddenly behind her. It hadn't been there before but she didn't question its existence then. There was a small window in the face of the door, a slightly opaque glass through which she could glimpse whatever had been following her. Shifting toward the door, her hands lifting to press against the cold metal, she caught the quick glance of red, a red hood and blond hair spilling from it. Little red riding hood.

_Rose._

She strained to see into the hallway once more but was much too afraid to open it to get a better look. A little girl in a red hood with long blond hair. Was that what she had seen? Was that her?

"Doctor?" she whispered fearfully, her breath misting against the glass.

In the darkness through the opaque surface, she saw the shadow creep ever closer, saw it slither close to the floor just behind the door and she pressed to the glass to look down, her hands trembling.

_Rose._

The shadow darted forward and slammed into the door, startling her. Through the glass she suddenly saw amber, a flash of hollow golden eyes framed by long blond hair. With a cry she fell backward and then simply turned and fled, racing up the staircase and winding about to take a second staircase.

Floors flew past her as she ran. Her breath was coming hoarsely now as she passed floor after floor, merely running. This wasn't running, though. Running was always a comfort, an escape. This was a pursuit. Only she didn't know what was behind her as the closing of the door sounded below. She didn't know what that slithering sound was, making its way up the staircases behind her but she knew better than to stay and wait for it. Coming on to one last floor she found herself before an emergency exit and she slammed into it, forcing it open. The door let out onto a roof, the sky gray above, a cold breeze freezing her momentarily.

Across the roof, moving down another set of stairs, she caught the flash of brown coattails.

"Doctor!" she shouted, finding her voice. And she raced across the roof, looking over her shoulder as the door opened with a bang once more.

A dark shadow spilled out onto the roof, forming the slender shape of a wolf. As she took hold of the railing to take the staircase she felt her breath escape her forcefully as the wolf approached, snarling. And the animal growled at her, coiling low to the roof before lunging. With a cry, eyes squeezing shut, she raced down the staircase frantically, terror streaking through her. She could hear the soft pad of paws behind her, the low monstrous snarl but she didn't dare look behind her to see how close it was.

_Rose._

She was on a fire escape once more. She had been here before, on these very metal steps. She couldn't remember when. Only that she had seen this place before. And below her, only two levels down she saw the brown coat disappear through a window nimbly, vanishing. Her chest heaving she took the staircase down the two levels. And she didn't imagine the snap of teeth at her back.. She couldn't have imagined it, not the heavy hot breath nor the smell of broken time. _His_ earthy scent, somehow scattered. Gasping, she turned toward the window, flinging herself into it to escape, to recoil from the wolf.

There was glass there.

Her body crashed through the fragile pane amidst the sound of something shattering, of skin tearing. And for a moment she was lost, her vision flashing white. She dropped heavily, her form crashing against something hard on her way in and she fell to the floor of a kitchen, sprawling, streams of color behind her blurred vision.

_Rose..._

She couldn't move through the pain. It seized her suddenly and abruptly, streaking down her entire frame in hot flames, her body curling in on itself. And she couldn't help the gasp, the pained moan as she instinctively stiffened up, her hands clawing. Her skin was slick, her palm falling to the floor and sliding across it without taking hold. Heaving, her form blazing, she forced her eyes open and saw the blood. Such an enormous amount, streaked across her hands as she lifted them before her eyes. Blood and diamonds, glass, sparkling in the light that drifted in through the broken window. Rolling slightly, she couldn't bear the pain that sparked once more as she straightened on the floor, as she breathed erratically, suddenly shivering.

_Rose..._

She squeezed her eyes shut once more, her mouth parting in agony. She fought to cry out, to call for him. Her plea died on her lips, her frame frozen to the point of breaking. As she went to call once more, to beg for him, her form seized again and she shrieked through it, pleading.

The wolf was at the door.

_Rose..._

Rolling onto her side painfully, she opened her eyes, forcing them into slits to search the kitchen. Such a familiar room. She had been her before. Shifting, her hands curled up before her, she rolled onto an elbow, her eyes flying to the refrigerator. And she saw the drawing, a child's sketch. Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf following her across green grass. The Big Bad Wolf.

_I am the Bad Wolf._

She spoke those words in her head, her voice lilting yet hushed, golden and chaotic in its truest form. But then his voice came, floating gently, embracing her in the hazy light that filtered into the room and seeming to run over her thoughts.

_Rose..._

Moaning through clenched teeth, she drew herself in for a instant before forcing herself onto her knees. And she felt glass drag as she moved, heard it fall as she hunched inwards for a long moment. Every part of her felt on fire, her head bowed into her chest, her hands clawed and bleeding. The blood shimmered in the gray light as she shifted her attention to it, as she splayed her fingers achingly before her eyes. Red, red fluid.

_Run, Rose. Run..._

Her voice hissing from her, she forced one leg to move, to lift. And then the other, wobbling under her as she depended on the first leg, her frame quivering.

At the window, its frame shadowing the kitchen, the wolf came to pause on the fire escape, snarling softly behind her.

She didn't dare to look as she forced herself to stand, her hands dropping at her sides wearily. But as it growled ever so quietly she knew she had to look. It was waiting for her. Turning the slightest bit, her eyes catching on the snarling wolf at the window, her heart slid to a stop. And she couldn't help the trembling inside of her, feeling as if she stood at the edge of something wide and forever, knowing any single thing could push her either way. Through a shiver, she whispered, "Help me."

As if in answer to her sigh, someone moved behind her. And she merely closed her eyes, her head falling back in defeat. But the newcomer brought a familiar scent, a familiar air. And she knew then that help had arrived, that she had nothing to fear. At her side she felt his sudden warmth and she caught the absolute scent of earth, unbroken Time. Of someone so painfully familiar that the mere relief flooding her was almost too much to bear. She didn't open her eyes and she didn't look at him. But she felt him and his presence was like that of a sun, flaring brilliantly and almost angrily. Opening her eyes, her heart finally slowing, she looked at the man as he reared up before her, blocking her from the threat.

The gray light from the window cast his back into shadow but she could not mistake that frame, that lean build in the long brown coat. He had come to save her from the creature. But as the animal growled at him, she felt a shiver streak through her once more. And she was suddenly uncertain that this man would survive against the bad wolf.

* * *

She snapped awake, inhaling forcefully.

At her side, shifting along the couch, the Doctor took hold of her roughly, his hands grabbing her and dragging her against his frame. "Rose. Wake up. Wake up. _Rose._"

Gasping and stiffening, Rose looked at him, struggling to recognize him for a moment. And then, as his wide-eyed face became familiar she exhaled in relief and fell limply in his arms, allowing him to hold her.

He did so, a frown crossing his forehead as he rested his chin on her head, his arms tight. "What was that all about, eh?" he asked her quietly, his fingers kneading the skin of her shoulder and ribs where he held her.

"Bad dream," she mumbled against his chest.

He nodded slightly, eyebrows arching. "Yes, I figured that much-" And he recoiled as she suddenly tore from his arms and lifted her hands before her face frantically. Staring at them as she flipped them around, she examined her skin and her palms, her figure shaking slightly.

He waited for her curiously, hands coming to rest in his lap.

Finally relieved at what she saw, she slumped back against the couch, her head falling to rest on the cushion wearily.

They sat in silence for several seconds, Rose's eyes closing, her breath beginning to slow. For a moment the Doctor wondered if she had fallen back to sleep but he recognized her breathing. When she slept it was significantly slower and rarely hitched. At the moment she was much too stiff and tense.

"I feel you staring at me," she murmured. And she smiled faintly, her eyes still closed.

He leaned back slightly as he shifted, lifting his legs and crossing them before him on the couch. "I'm impatient," he explained with his own small smile. "I've told you before, your dreams fascinate me."

"Yeah," she stated. And she sat forward finally, opening her eyes to look at him. Her face seemed weary, those dark circles gathering under her summer eyes again.

He gazed at her sadly. They were getting worse, those circles. Aging her before her time. With a gesture of his head, no longer wanting to see such darkness on her face, he mouthed, "C'mon," and rose from the couch.

Wordlessly, she followed him, reaching out reflexively for his hand. He gave it, fingers interlocking with hers and he led her out of the library, turning to head down the TARDIS hallway silently. She adored his silence sometimes. The fact that their silences were comfortable relieved her, made her realize yet again just how far they had come as friends. As partners, even. At his side, as he glanced at her, she gave him a tired smile, stiff lips pressing together ruefully. He returned the gentle smile to her before facing forward once more and turning another corner, another hallway. She knew where they were headed although that really was the extent of the knowledge when it came to the phone box. It was labyrinthine, the hallways of the TARDIS. She knew how to get to the floor that housed his closets when she came from the direction of the console room but that, too, shifted depending on his mood. Or the TARDIS' mood. She had been stranded in the hallway that had led to her room once, at the beginning of their time together, when he'd still worn black leather. He had apologized to her afterwards but she had discovered later it had been because he'd been in a sour mood and had wanted time to himself. As such, he had changed the layout of the TARDIS, stranding her.

She still wasn't sure she had forgiven him that one.

They entered the kitchen and he sat her down on a stool by the counter, floating over to the cupboards to search through them. He was setting about to make tea and she merely waited in silence, leaning over the counter and examining her hands once more conspicuously. She expected them to be lacerated and bleeding but the soft pale flesh was unmarred, unbroken. She had been so sure. "What does it mean when you dream of glass?" she asked him quietly, absentmindedly.

The Doctor paused as he set the teapot to boil. "Glass," he murmured and he paused, head bowed to the teapot thoughtfully. "Well, according to your researchers, some sort of change in your life. Is the glass broken?" And he glanced at her, turning to lean against a similar counter across from hers.

"Oh, yeah," she said with a definitive nod.

The Doctor pursed his lips at her reply. "Well, you know how I feel about dream interpretations," he said slowly, an eyebrow arching. "Namely that I don't believe in them. And neither should you, honestly. It's just your mind explaining things to you that you're unaware of in a way that you will understand. It's different for everyone, depending on what events are currently occurring."

She threw him a look, hands pressing down flat on the counter under her elbows. "I was supposed to understand that dream I just had?" she asked, sounding unconvinced.

He hesitated. "Well," he drawled, with a shrug. "Again, it depends. Dreams come in different variations concerning their meanings. Sometimes a broken glass…is just a broken glass." And he drew away from his counter, crossing to hover beside hers before seating himself on a stool opposite her. "Tell me about it."

She gazed at him silently for a moment, the corners of her mouth twitching. But as he crossed his elbows and rested them on the counter, she sighed dramatically. "I dreamt I went through a window," she said to him with a wince, gauging his reaction. "Broken glass. Everywhere."

His eyebrows slowly lifted. "I see."

She blinked at him, seizing onto that reaction worriedly. "Does that mean something? Anything? In like, that dream interpretation stuff?" she demanded.

He pursed his lips, eyes dropping to his hands as they met together, fingers interlocking absentmindedly. "I've no idea," he replied to that. "I was just expecting…well, not that, honestly. I'm not surprised then that you were examining your hands the way you were. It must have been terrifying." And his voice sounded sincere.

Sighing inwardly, Rose leaned her elbows on the counter also, resting her chin in her palm wearily. "It was. There was all this glass, all over the place. I don't know what happened. I was running around, being chased, and I just…went through the window. Didn't see the glass. Just went…" And she motioned with her other hand, splayed, a swift forward motion to describe her flight. "Right through it."

The Doctor pressed his locked hands down to the counter. "What was chasing you?" he asked casually.

She paused at the question, catching his nonchalance and finding the false note in it. "A wolf," she replied, watching his expression.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Really."

She nodded. "Now ask me what I was chasing," she prodded.

He arched his brows at her in question although he didn't voice it.

"You, silly," she revealed and she smiled widely, shifting along her stool. "I'm always chasing after you. You never want to stay in one place."

He returned her smile although it wasn't nearly as wide as she would have liked. "Well, that would defeat the purpose after all, staying in one place. It's just ridiculous."

"Completely mad," she agreed.

With a sympathetic look he released his hand from the other and reached across the counter, taking hers instead. She allowed him, lifting her chin away and waiting as he examined her hands and palms.

"Read me my fortune?" she asked him softly, gazing at his beautiful profile and feeling her heart quicken.

He glanced at her momentarily, a quick shift of his dark eyes, before straightening and feigning a knowledgeable expression. "I see…" he began, nose tipping slightly toward the ceiling, his stare trained on her palms. And he chuckled then, softly, causing her to laugh quietly as well. "I see a long, happy life, Rose Tyler."

"For me, right?" she demanded suspiciously, still smiling nonetheless.

"Yes, for you. I look at my hands and all I see is…" He released her hands to examine his own. "Numerous short life lines."

She swatted at him across the table, causing him to recoil with a wide grin on his face. "Oi! That's not funny!" she cried at him, pointing.

He swung away from the counter as the teapot began to sing. "Oh, I know. But it was just so easy. It was begging to be said, just by the expression on your face. I couldn't help myself."

Sighing and shaking her head, she did let her smile falter slightly. She wouldn't ever remain mad at the Doctor even though there were times that he really did deserve a good whack. But as he set preparing the tea, glancing over his shoulder at her with a twinkle in his dark eyes, she decided she would let him be. For the moment.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: 42 Minutes**

They had just managed to open the door, slipping through and heading to the next one, when a scream cut through the intercom, Abi's voice strangling in mid-shriek. Rose slid to a dead stop, lifting her head to listen fearfully as shivers raced down her spine at the sheer terror in the scream. Beside her Riley also came to a halt, his lips parted, all blood draining from his face.

The second, deeper voice whispered again darkly, coldly, echoing over the intercom. _"Burn…with…me…"_


	29. 42 Minutes

**Chapter Twenty-Eight – 42 Minutes:**

The TARDIS jarred angrily.

Snapping awake in bed, Rose opened her eyes and immediately sat up, covers falling away from her stiff frame. Her room was dark save for the small night light she left on in the corner of the room and she looked toward it in confusion momentarily. The next second the phone box shifted again, bumping irregularly and she quickly shoved the covers off to jump to her feet. The clock on her wall read five in the morning and she growled under her breath as she pulled on a pair of jeans and changed out of her night shirt. She realized she had only been asleep an hour since the dream she'd had earlier as she slipped on trainers and reached for her sweater.

Emerging from her room and bolting down the hallway she came out into the console room, rubbing at her eyes. "What is it? What's going on?" she asked, catching sight of the Doctor at the TARDIS console, his shoulders rigid as he circled it intently.

"Did I wake you? Sorry," he said, not sounding sincerely apologetic in the least as he glanced at her quickly and then back at the console. "Distress signal coming through. The TARDIS is locking on-" The ship jolted once more, one violent bump that sent the Doctor off his feet to the grated floor and Rose back into the hallway.

Groaning at finding herself on her rear, Rose stood up once more and stumbled back into the console room as the Doctor jumped to his feet again. The ship had stopped rocking turbulently and they hesitated, glancing toward each other in silence for a long moment. Then with the Doctor leading wordlessly, they both sprang to the doors of the TARDIS.

Yanking the door open they felt the blast of heat that entered, Rose flinching away with a grimace. "Oh! That's-" she cried and she lifted a hand to protect her face as red light streamed into the TARDIS, the Doctor poking his head out through the doors "Where did we land?"

"Not sure," the Doctor replied and he stepped out of the TARDIS fully, looking about. "It's an engine room."

Rose finally followed behind him, lowering her hand cautiously and wincing at the immense heat. "Why is it so hot in here?" she asked, not really expecting an answer as she looked around. They had indeed entered what seemed to be a metallic room, more of a large hallway, heat and steam floating thickly all around.

"Good question," the Doctor murmured and he motioned with an index finger thoughtfully. "Venting systems should be cooling this place down but it's not-" He followed the ceiling line of the vents with a frown forming on his forehead. Without another word he floated over to a large metal door and took hold of the thick bar attached to the door's surface, twisting it and wincing as the metal seemed to burn him slightly. The door slid open with a long creak and Rose quickly came up behind him, scooting past as he held the door open for her upon peering in first. Once through, Rose stepped into a small red-lit corridor, pausing as a similar door on the other side of the hallway was opened, admitting three newcomers. The Doctor came out behind Rose, his hand still on the door as he caught sight of the three people suddenly in the corridor with them.

"Seal that door!" one of the three, a male, shouted at them and they quickly separated to let him through as he raced for the door they had just come in through.

Rose rounded on the other two, glancing from the Doctor to the second male and a woman as they reached them.

"Who the hell are you?" the woman demanded in disbelief as the first male secured the door behind them once more.

Seeming to ignore them all, the Doctor moved past them to a window in the corridor, pausing before it. "I'm Rose," she introduced herself with a small wave and then motioning to the Doctor as he noticeably stiffened at the window. "That rude one is the Doctor," she tossed out with a look.

"What are you doing on my ship?" the woman was still questioning, her skin gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat.

"We got a distress signal, I think-" Rose stated with a slight pitch of confusion and she broke off as a mechanical voice sounded throughout the corridor tonelessly.

"Secure Closure Active."

The woman whirled around, looking toward her two crew members. "Who activated secure closure?"

"Impact Projection: 42 minutes." The voice came again, metallic and firm.

Looking up, her eyes flying about in search for the owner of the voice, Rose asked quietly, "Forty-two minutes?"

"Rose," the Doctor murmured from the window.

Rose ignored him for the moment, feeling a sudden stir of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. "Forty-two minutes until what?" she prodded the three crew members standing before her.

"Rose," the Doctor said again and this time his tone was stronger, demanding. He glanced toward her, a quick motion, and she instantly darted toward him, glancing back at the ship crew warily.

He wordlessly slid over a bit as she murmured, "Budge up," upon reaching him and then they were both looking out the small circular window. Outside, she could see a bit of the expanse of the ship they currently stood on as it hurtled through dark space. But as the ship spun slowly, almost gracefully, she saw what had worried the Doctor.

With the ship now facing ahead she saw the large sun that waited before them, the heat rising and curling from its surface in brilliant clouds of fire. And as she stared she realized what the problem was even as the Doctor whispered it. "Forty-two minutes until we crash into that sun."

Swallowing, Rose backed away from the window numbly, her hand lifting to the Doctor's and wrapping around his elbow.

"Right," he said a moment later and he was instantly in running mode, whirling to scan the corridor, unconsciously pulling out of her grasp with his frenetic gestures. "Engines?"

The woman, now perspiring quite visibly in the heat, threw him a look that stated she didn't quite trust him yet but she answered nonetheless. "They cut off a few minutes ago."

The Doctor's jaw clenched. "Crew members onboard?"

"Six, including us," she replied, the two males coming up to flank her on either side.

The Doctor nodded firmly. "Ok. Gather your crew. I'll get you off this ship." He brushed by Rose, past the three crew members, and went for the door they'd come through once more.

Immediately the two males went after him, the woman shouting, "No, _don't!"_

As the Doctor opened the door once more, a sudden heat burst from it, searing his hands. Instinctively he threw his arms up to defend himself, his form crashing to the floor as the two men circled past him and closed the door yet again.

Rose crouched beside the Doctor quickly, reaching for him. "Are you all right?" she demanded, winding an arm through his and hauling him backward.

"My ship is in there!" the Doctor shouted at the crew members, straining in her grip as he gestured toward the door.

One of the males scanned the gauges beside the door as Rose followed his movements with her eyes, her heart beginning to pick up speed. "It's three thousand degrees in there. If your ship is in there…" the man broke off, his meaning clear.

Swallowing momentarily, the Doctor's frame heaving in her arms, Rose glanced down at him. "Are we stuck here?" she asked the Doctor in an undertone, her voice tremulous. That would be a very bad thing with the ship heading directly for that sun outside. "Doctor," she stated when he didn't respond immediately.

He frowned, hearing her question then and shifting to his feet with her help. "No, of course not. The engines cut off, she said. Simple. We fix the engines, steer out of the way of the sun, problem solved. Is engineering down this way?" Without waiting for the crew members to respond he bolted down the corridor to a set of stairs, leading the group.

Rose threw the rest of the crew members a look and a small shrug before following after him.

Ahead of her, twisting his way through a couple of corridors, the Doctor came upon the room that was engineering. And upon entering, he slid to a halt, the crew members and Rose running into him from behind as they caught up. "This is engineering?" he asked in stunned disbelief.

The woman of the group stepped around him to see what had caused the confusion in his tone and was met with the disaster that had become her engine room. "What the hell happened here?" she asked hoarsely, taking a step to inspect the damage of large destroyed machinery and wires poking out in gnarled tangles. "Who did this?"

Rose came up beside the Doctor, her brow wrinkling as she took in the scene wordlessly.

"Where are Korwin and Ashton?" the woman demanded, taking charge, and she darted to an intercom system on the wall, smacking a button and immediately calling for the two crew members she had previously named. "Korwin should be here!"

The Doctor glanced toward Rose as she motioned to the ruined section of engineering. "So I take it that's not supposed to look like that," she stated flatly.

He arched his eyebrow at her silently and stepped to a small floor terminal attached to the wreck, examining it the console face. "No, it's not supposed to look like that," he sighed as he slipped on his specs and started up the terminal. He glanced over as the two males went to the ruin, observing it and digging into it futilely before looking back to the terminal. "Toraji System. I wanted to bring you here before," he said to Rose as she looked over at him but he was still studying the terminal. "This…isn't exactly the way I pictured the visit to play out."

"I bet."

The Doctor frowned behind his specs as he caught something on the monitor and he motioned to the woman of the crew. "Energy scoops for fusion still? Hasn't that been outlawed?"

The woman stared at him for a long thoughtful moment before waving away his question dismissively. "We're due for an upgrade next docking." She motioned to one of the males at the wreck. "Scannell, get me an engine report."

With a nod, one of the males moved, motioning the Doctor aside to inspect the terminal. The Doctor slid over, musing over the woman's answer before turning his attention to the man before him.

Scannell tapped the screen for a moment and then again, a frown crossing his face. "No response," he replied and as the woman whirled on him he motioned to the wreck his fellow crew member was inspecting. "I mean, look at this mess! They're wrecked! I can't get them back online."

Rose hovered to the side, moving from one foot to the other restlessly. "Well, don't you have backup engines…or something…" She threw the Doctor a shrug as he glanced at her.

"Auxiliary engines," the Doctor translated for the crew.

"They're in the front of the ship," the woman replied.

The Doctor stared at her, his head bowing. "So what are we waiting for?" he asked quietly.

She glared right back at him. "Secure Closure means exactly that. Secure Closure. We have 29 doors between us and the auxiliary engines. All doors are password-sealed. We'll never get through them in the time we have left-"

"Sonic screwdriver?" Rose asked, turning to the Doctor.

"Dead-lock sealed," he answered, his eyes scanning the wreck of engineering blindly. "No use-"

"No chance," the woman interrupted in a strangely flat tone.

Rose looked toward the Doctor as he sprang up once more. "Oh, there's always a chance! Just have to give it a go! Who has the passwords?"

The other male came forward at that. "They're randomly generated but I reckon I know most of them. Riley." He nodded by way of introduction.

"Good to meet you, Riley. What say you to getting on those doors now?" the Doctor inquired rapidly.

The man nodded once more, instantly darting to the wreckage and sifting through to pull on a backpack and dragging out a large metallic clamp. "Two man job. Need someone to come with me to drag this around." He hefted it up into his grasp.

Rose stared at the clamp for a long moment, feeling her skin grow cold. At the same moment the Doctor looked from the clamp immediately to her, his eyes wide. She realized she didn't have to tell him what the clamp reminded her of because he knew. Because he had been there. The clamp that she had been forced to release that day in Torchwood, when they had opened the seal together to trap the Daleks in the void. She felt her fingers cramp as she curled them in. But as the Doctor took a step toward her she said, "I'll do it."

The crew looked at her, Riley cocking his head in question, obviously not having expected her to volunteer.

"I'll…I'll go with you. I'll carry that, you do the passwords." She glanced at the Doctor as he closed the space between them, his expression questioning her silently. She recognized the look but feigned an easy smile for him. "It'll give me something to do in the meantime, while you work on this mess here."

Riley also approached the two of them, hesitant. "It's remotely controlled by computer panel. That's really the reason this requires two."

"It's fine," Rose said to the Doctor reassuringly as he merely gazed at her. "Honest." She turned back to Riley. "Ok, lead the way." And swallowing faintly, she reached out and took the clamp with both hands, testing its weight in her grip before falling into step behind the crew member.

"Be careful," the Doctor called after her.

She threw him another small smile before the two of them headed off. As they moved away she heard an unfamiliar voice over the intercom sound around them, glancing back over her shoulder to see the Doctor's attention already elsewhere. "McDonnell, it's Ashton," the male voice stated, echoing throughout the hallways as she turned the corner following Riley. "You there?"

"I'm here," came the crew woman's voice in response and Rose understood they were now communicating through the intercom. It seemed every room and corridor had an intercom installed in the walls and ceiling. "Where are you? Is Korwin with you?"

The man over the communications, Ashton, sounded wary as he answered, "Get to the med centre. Quickly. You need to see this."

Hearing the sudden rush of footsteps behind them, Rose glanced over her shoulder once more to see the crew turn the corner they'd just come from, the Doctor with them. Frowning, she felt the Doctor grasp her elbow momentarily as they passed by but when she turned to follow him with her eyes, they were already turning into another adjacent corridor and out of sight.

* * *

"Heat Shields failing. At twenty-five percent. Impact in 34:30," the mechanical voice intoned ominously as she and Riley reached the first dead-locked door in silence.

"What is taking so long?" she questioned Riley several minutes later as he tapped at a small console keypad. "Are all the doors going to take this long?"

"Ok, ok," he said, causing her to straighten once more. "Attach the clamp on."

She complied, attaching it securely with visions of Torchwood and Daleks running through her head as she did so. Fixing the clamp in place she looked at him to see him typing once more. "Now what are you typing?" she demanded.

"Each door's trip code is the answer to a random question set by the crew," Riley explained as he tapped at the keypad. "Nine tours back, we got drunk, thought them up. Reckoning was if we're hijacked, we're the only ones who know all the answers."

"Oh, that's just brilliant," Rose said with a glare.

"Was at the time," Riley said with a half grin. He motioned to the backpack he carried. "We type in the right answer and this sends an unlock pulse to the clamp. But we only get one chance per door. If we get it wrong the whole system freezes up."

Rose felt a small spike of ice dig into her midsection. "You didn't think to mention this sooner?"

"Ok, so let's see what the question is," Riley murmured, seeming to gloss over her question. He glanced at a readout screen. "Date of SS Pentallian's first flight. Aw, perfect!" A moment later he was typing in what seemed to be the answer. Upon finishing he turned to her and nodded. "Go!"

Turning to the clamp, Rose nudged a button and listened as it beeped softly. Then green lights lit up on the face of the clamp, the door hissing open. "Got it!"

With a wide grin Riley darted to meet her and together they pulled the clamp free. "Only twenty-eight to go!"

Over the intercom came the Doctor's voice then, sounding the smallest bit urgent. "Rose? Riley? How are you two coming along?"

"We're at twenty-eight," Rose replied loudly as they reached the next door. Glancing to her partner, she quickly set up the clamp as Riley paused beside the keypad to the door.

"You need to move faster," the Doctor replied through the intercom.

"We're moving as fast as we can," Rose grumbled and she turned to Riley. "Well?"

Riley seemed lost. "Find the next number in the sequence. 313. 331. 367…" He looked at her, confusion evident on his face.

"Don't look at me," Rose said, recoiling. "Shouldn't you know these answers?"

Riley grimaced. "The crew's changed since we set the answers," he revealed reluctantly.

Rose's jaw dropped open_. "What?"_

"379," the Doctor's voice came from the intercom bluntly.

Rose turned in the direction of the intercom. "How do you know that?" she demanded in disbelief.

"Are you sure?" Riley asked over her, staring at her but listening intently for the Doctor.

"Just enter it," the Doctor said in exasperation. "Any number which reduces to one when you take the sum of the square of its digits and you continue iterating until it yields one is a happy number. Any number that doesn't, isn't. A happy prime is a number which is both happy and prime, now type it in!"

Rose and Riley stared at each other for a small moment. Then Rose sighed with a shake of her head. "He's brilliant and he's almost always right. If he doesn't know this one then we're all in for it anyway." She motioned to him to enter the number.

Riley was hesitant still. "You trust him that much?"

Rose stared at him, her fingers loosening then tightening on the clamp. "Yeah. Yeah I do. With my life," she responded to that quietly.

Riley paused for another long moment before raising his eyebrows. "Ok, then. Good enough for me." And he typed in the answer, turning to her a moment later slowly.

Swallowing to calm her racing pulse, Rose pushed on the button of the clamp, trying to stop herself from wincing. But as the clamp beeped and the door opened with a small hiss she released her breath in relief, throwing Riley a smile. "See?"

Riley grinned and came up beside her, hefting the door open as she pulled the clamp free. "Brilliant!"

"We're through," Rose called out as the two of them went through the door and headed for the next one.

"Good," came the Doctor's voice, echoing around them as they hurried. "Keep moving, fast as you can." There was a hesitant pause and a short breath from the intercom. "Also, Rose, be careful. There may be something else on board this ship."

Rose paused at his words, the clamp suddenly seeming far heavier than it had been a moment before. "What do you mean, _something?"_ she asked.

"Never mind," came his voice firmly. "Just keep working and keep an eye out." And with that the intercom went silent.

"Great," Rose mumbled under her breath and she hurried to catch up to Riley who was waiting at the next doorway.

"This is a nightmare," Riley was grumbling, examining the wall console. "Music quiz, really. Who had the most pre-download number ones, Elvis Presley or the Beatles?" His face twisted in confusion. "How are we supposed to know that?"

"Impact in 29:46," intoned the ship's computer.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Rose growled at the corridor around her and she paused to think, Riley also falling silent next to her.

"Doctor," came a woman's voice over the intercom, bringing them both to raise their heads.

"Who is that?" Rose asked Riley as the Doctor's voice also sounded, questioning the woman concerning readings.

"Abi," Riley responded absentmindedly, his gaze locked on the keypad. "Medical officer."

"-scaring me," Abi was responding over the intercom. "Korwin's body is…well, changing. His entire biological makeup is-" A bang sounded on her side of the conversation, cutting her off halfway through her sentence.

Riley jumped, Rose spinning to look toward the intercom.

A moment later Abi's voice came once more, frantic. "This is Med-center. Urgent assistance requested. Urgent assistance!"

Rose turned back around to look at Riley who was now also looking fairly uneasy. "Now what the hell was that? What's going on? And who the hell is Korwin already?"

"I don't know what the bang was," he responded tightly. "Korwin is McDonnell's husband." When Rose merely looked at him, he continued, "McDonell is the woman who was with us when you two showed up. She's the ship's captain."

Abi's voice echoed fearfully around them as she continued to cry out, "Urgent assistance requested-"

But then a second voice cut in, low and menacing, unlike any human voice Rose was accustomed to. _"Burn…with me…"_

Turning her head to look at Riley once more, she was not comforted by the utter mix of fear and confusion on his face. "Ok, so you don't know what that was either, huh?" she asked him. And when he shook his head slowly she nodded, straightening and forcing herself to concentrate on the matter at hand. They had a task to do and there was nothing they could do for the others at the moment. "Elvis."

Riley looked at her again, a quick glance, an eyebrow arching. "How do you know that?" he asked her shortly.

Rose shrugged, unwilling to show him that she wasn't actually sure of her answer. "Mum dated a musician," she replied. She added quickly, "So did I, actually. Different musicians. But musicians, both of them. Not the same one, I mean." She motioned for him to input the answer.

He did so gingerly, putting the answer in and then looking toward her once more. She turned to the clamp, fearful of even pushing the button. But as she hesitated there, she realized yet again that there was nowhere else to go and nothing else to do except push the button. Clenching her jaw, she did so, holding her breath.

The clamp beeped, the door opening. With a soft, "Yes!" she glanced at Riley, a smile crossing her face, mirrored by him.

They had just managed to open the door, slipping through and heading to the next one, when a scream cut through the intercom, Abi's voice strangling in mid-shriek. Rose slid to a dead stop, lifting her head to listen fearfully as shivers raced down her spine at the sheer terror in the scream. Beside her Riley also came to a halt, his lips parted, all blood draining from his face.

The second, deeper voice whispered again darkly, coldly, echoing over the intercom. _"Burn…with…me…"_

Hurrying to the door, Rose smacked at the intercom to speak. "Doctor? Where are those screams coming from-"

"Never mind about that!" the Doctor shouted back at her over the intercom, bringing her to a sudden stop. "Focus on those doors! Nothing else!"

Without another word, hunching her shoulders as the cold voice came once more over the intercom she motioned for Riley to move with a nod of her head. "Come on! You heard him!" And they hurried on.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Twenty-Nine: Jettisoned**

The Doctor said something else, studying the creature before him intently as he spoke. Rose recognized the look on his face. He was intensely curious, wanting to see, wanting to figure out what they were up against. And she didn't care as long as something was done to get them out of the pod. The man began to lift his visor, causing her to lean even closer to the window. Because she suddenly wanted to see now as well, wanted a look at this man who knew her, who had recognized her as the Bad Wolf.


	30. Jettisoned

**A/N: **I'm sending out a day early, I have a feeling tomorrow will be a HECTIC day being the last day before the holiday officially starts for me. Happy holidays, folks! Have a great Christmas and sorry this is a short chapter! Hope everyone gets everything they want! Hee!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine - Jettisoned:**

"Everyone, listen to me," McDonnell's voice came over the intercom, resounding throughout the ship. "Something's infected Korwin. We think he killed Abi. Whatever you do, don't go anywhere near him. Understood?"

Even as the rest of the crew agreed through the intercom, Rose wasn't even paying attention. She burst through the latest door, lugging the clamp after her, Riley following close behind. "Quick, quick!" she shouted at Riley as he went to the keypad and she set up the clamp, waiting.

The intercom sounded again, an unfamiliar grizzled voice echoing. "Captain McDonnell, this mess in engineering…"

Rose looked toward Riley questioningly. "Ashton," he said for her quietly, pointing to the intercom.

"These circuits are fried," the man, Ashton, was continuing. "Even if we get these engines back online, it's very likely we-" He broke off suddenly, the air falling heavily into silence.

Rose lifted her head to listen, her eyes shifting toward Riley as he paused also.

A moment later shouts erupted, Ashton yelling. And the deep voice came softly, maliciously. _"We must share the light…"_

"Get on that!" Rose cried fearfully, motioning to the terminal Riley was working on. "Quick!"

"Rose!" came the Doctor's voice over the intercom, frantic. "Where are you?"

Rose looked around in panic, her hands holding the clamp in place. "Um…we're in…" she caught sight of another side door, a window in its face looking into a small room and then saw the number above the door they had just come through. "Area 17! We're in Area 17! We're working on the door now-"

A bang sounded back the way they had come.

Riley and Rose both whirled to look, Rose losing strength in her limbs suddenly. "W-what was that?" she asked Riley breathlessly.

Riley merely shook his head and he slowly left the terminal, inching back the way they had come. Peeking around the door they had come through, he started as a figure appeared in the corridor at the head of Area 18. "Oh," he said a moment later, relief washing over him. "Ashton! You scared me-"

_"Burn…with me…"_

Rose stiffened, her eyes widening to the point of nearly popping from her skull upon realizing the eerie voice had come from the man standing barely twenty feet away from them.

The figure was staggering forward through the corridor, a metallic helmet over his head, one hand stretched out. As he halted in the middle of the corridor, Riley recoiling, the man suddenly turned to Rose, hesitating. His head tilted, his breath raspy under the helmet.

_"Bad Wolf…" _he growled eerily. _"Forty…two…minutes…"_

Fear exploded from Rose at his words, spurring her into action. She spun around and saw the opening to the other corridor of Area 17, the small window in its surface. Immediately and reflexively, she found herself going for the door, dropping the clamp and hearing it crash to the floor loudly behind her as she moved. With a wince she slammed her fist on a button on the wall console beside the doorway, reaching toward Riley with her other hand. "Come on!" she ordered and she squeezed through the sliding metal door as it opened slowly.

Without a fight, Riley followed after her, pushing into the new chamber. As Rose pressed herself to the wall, Riley pulled up to the inside terminal beside the door, punching in a code. The door instantly began to close, shutting just as slowly as it had opened. Holding her breath, her frame rigid, Rose settled in relief only when it sealed, a hand lifting to her head. To her left was another small chamber, this one with a circular door, and she hunched to examine it for a moment but then Riley was speaking.

"What the hell is _Bad Wolf?"_ he asked frantically, his voice high-pitched in what seemed to be oncoming hysteria.

Rose looked at him quickly but merely shook her head. A moment later she cried out, terror spiking as the helmeted man appeared at the door, peeking in through the thick glass of the door. He raised his fist and slammed on the door, causing Riley to spin and recoil fearfully.

"What the _hell-_"

Clamping down on the rest of his sentence, he whirled back to the terminal stiffly. Rose turned to follow him with her head for a moment before her eyes shifted back toward the man standing outside the door. He seemed to be observing her intently and she bowed her head, feeling her muscles bunch up with adrenaline. There were many things she had seen traveling with the Doctor. A mere man was not about to intimidate her. And with the thought she braced herself, refusing to show the creature outside the door any kind of fear, any crack in her armor. At the terminal Riley punched in another code, and now the other doors of the smaller circular room came open, separating in the middle horizontally with a clang and a loud hiss. Immediately, Riley took hold of Rose and shoved her toward the opening doors, not unkindly. She went without a word, scampering in over the bottom edge of the door and shifting to huddle against one side of the tiny room as Riley climbed in after her. Turning to a small terminal inside the room, he jabbed at several keys and the doors began to shut once more, protruding outward again. "What is this?" Rose asked him tremulously, her hand sliding up the wall behind her.

The computer sounded. "Airlock sealed. Jettison escape pod."

Rose spun around to face Riley. "Escape pod? Is that us?" she demanded, lips parted.

He was at another terminal, typing in frantically.

"Riley, damnit! Is that us?" she shouted again.

Clenching his jaw as he jabbed in codes, he murmured, "It's about to be. Through no fault of mine."

Heaving, Rose stood once more and peered fearfully through the small window of the escape pod. Directly on the other side of the pod stood the man with the helmet. As she came to peek through the glass he pounded on the window, causing her to cry out and fall away in terror. "He's still out there-"

_"Rose!"_ came the Doctor's voice and she lifted her head in the pod, looking around quickly. Seeing the comm device against the opposite wall, she scrambled to it and cracked her fist on it to activate it.

"Doctor!"

"Where are you?" he demanded and he sounded as if he was running, his voice frantic.

"In an escape pod just off Area 17!" she cried in response and she looked over her shoulder to the man just outside the window. "One of the crew members is trying to jettison the pod!"

"Stay here and jump start those engines!" the Doctor ordered someone in his background, his voice jumping. "And I mean it this time! _Stay here!"_

"Jettison held," the computer indicated.

Riley breathed in relief, his head bowing for a moment. He glanced toward Rose but she was watching the man through the glass, drawing close to the door once more as he vanished from sight. A moment later the computer spoke once more.

"Jettison reactivated."

Riley spun back to the terminal in confusion. _"What?"_

Rose whirled to look at him, motioning. "He's working the codes from his side! Stop him!"

"I'm trying!" he shouted.

The Doctor appeared just outside the escape pod in the terminal, bringing Rose to turn back to the door. Pressing closer to the small window, she motioned to grab his attention but he was focused solely on the figure before him, the same person standing just outside the escape pod latch. He shouted something at the man with the helmet, his frame stiffening with each word. She wished she could hear the exchange but the glass and thick metal doors muffled all sound. The Doctor said something more, his face dark, hesitating to wait for an answer.

Instead, with one ferocious gesture, the man punched his fist into the outside terminal, sparks flying from the burst. The Doctor moved slightly to stop him, his lips parting, but then the computer spoke, the voice firm.

"Jettison activated."

"He smashed the circuit," Riley whispered, pausing in the middle of his input. Curling his hands away from the terminal, he murmured numbly, "I can't stop it-"

Rose held close to the door, her hand lifting to the window fearfully. The Doctor was still speaking to the man with the helmet but now the man was directly before him, standing close enough to lift the hair on Rose's arms and neck. "What is he doing?" she demanded tremulously, her question falling on deaf ears.

The Doctor said something else, studying the creature before him intently as he spoke. Rose recognized the look on his face. He was intensely curious, wanting to see, wanting to figure out what they were up against. And she didn't care as long as something was done to get them out of the pod. The man began to lift his visor, causing her to lean even closer to the window. Because she suddenly wanted to see now as well, wanted a look at this man who knew her, who had recognized her as the Bad Wolf.

But a moment later the man abruptly faltered, falling away from the Time Lord, and the Doctor frowned as he did so, seeming confused. The man hesitated, hunched over silently, his shoulders rigid. The Doctor waited for him, observing him closely, a frown furrowing his brow. With what seemed to be a renewed effort, the man straightened back to his full height but instead of attacking he merely lunged and shoved past the Doctor, heading back the way he had come in.

The Doctor hesitated for a moment, staring after him. Then, springing into action, he went to the intercom and spoke into it quickly, something Rose couldn't hear.

"Airlock decompression completed," the computer reported, bringing Rose back to the problem at hand. "Jettisoning pod."

Rose looked toward Riley, barely hearing him as he cursed at the terminal. Turning back around, she saw the Doctor suddenly on the other side and she lifted her hand back to the window, banging on it frantically. At seeing him she felt the relief that peeked through her panic and her lips parted as she mouthed his name, fingers tapping to the glass lightly, her hand trembling.

He stood silent for a long moment, merely gazing at her. And then he murmured something, his mouth barely moving. She frowned slightly, attempting to hear him, wishing to read the words as they left his mouth.

The second time he spoke, she caught his words. "I'll save you," he mouthed, this time more pronounced. Firm. "I'll save you."

Abruptly the pod disengaged, Rose staggering slightly. Her eyes widened, her jaw falling open and she suddenly felt complete and utter fear, her skin draining of color. He motioned once more, bringing her attention back to him and he was still mouthing it, still attempting to comfort her.

"I'll save you!"

But his face was growing smaller, falling away and she understood it was because the escape pod was leaving the ship, space beginning to separate them. She pushed closer to the window, frantic, banging on the door in terror but he merely shouted the same sentence to her. Over and over.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty: Infected**

"I don't know. This seems like a pretty desperate situation," Riley sighed. "Maybe more than he can handle."

Rose shook her head, lifting it once more and looking out at the stars. With the one sentence, he had just shifted everything into perspective for her. "No," she said firmly, the smile blossoming. "There's nothing he can't handle."


	31. Infected

**A/N: **Another early chapter for you guys. The NE was hit with some crazy weather and NYC has been a pain in the butt to work with the last few days. I have a feeling tomorrow should be a crazy day with my job and just in general in getting to work. Plus I'm leaving tomorrow night for PA where I have to shovel MORE snow. Gotta love Brooklyn and Allentown, lol. Anyways, in case I don't have a chance to talk to anyone or respond to any reviews, have a Happy New Year! Hope you all have a crazy awesome weekend!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty - Infected:**

_"I'll save you!"_

Rose sat back weakly, her parted lips falling shut in defeat. He had said words like those to her once before. He had saved her as he had promised. And before the day had been out he had died.

She didn't have to look toward the man beside her. She knew what he was thinking. That this was the end for them, on course for the sun. "He'll save us," she said to him quietly.

"Yeah," he said in a sigh.

"He will," Rose said, turning on him. "You don't know him like I do. He'll save us-"

"Rose," he cut her off, glaring at her. "Look around. We're in an escape pod headed for the sun. He can't help us anymore!" He gestured about flippantly, angrily. "Why are we even complaining? We're better off this way. I'd rather die in here than onboard that station with…with that monster chasing us."

"Stop it," she ordered him, her brows drawing in. "We'll be fine. He'll save us." She rose, moving to look back out the escape hatch, her hands lifting to it. "You'll see. He'll save us."

They stood in silence once more for several minutes, aware that each moment seemed longer than previous one in that cold, blue pod. Staring out into space, she no longer even had a glimpse of the ship they had just been expelled from. All she saw now was the slightest blur of light to the side, the very edge of the brilliant sun they were on course for. She lowered her eyes to her hands before her, trailing them across the cold metal. Would it hurt? Would she even feel it? Chances were far greater they would burn long before they even came within the sun's contact. How far out would the sun's heat reach to kill them? And how long would it take for her to burn alive? She shivered at the thought, closing her eyes and bowing her head to rest it against the window. Cold. It was all strangely cold though they were heading for a sun.

"I'm sorry," came Riley's voice from behind her.

She didn't open her eyes. "Sorry for what?" she asked him quietly.

He didn't reply for a long moment. Then, in a soft tone, he said, "For getting angry earlier. For snapping at you. At this point, we're in this together, you and me. It's going to happen to both of us. And I don't want to die angry or having a row with someone."

Rose lifted her head from the window, opening her eyes to look out once more. There was the sun. She saw the waves of heat, the trails of fire lifting from its surface and it was beautiful. She whispered almost absentmindedly, "It's ok. I'm a bit…emotional too right now."

He chuckled mirthlessly at that. "You're taking it better than I am."

She stared at the clouds of fire, blinking slowly. "We've been…in situations like this before, me and the Doctor," she murmured with a sigh. "Always…getting ourselves into trouble. Always…finding a way out of it, even at the very end. This…" she shrugged. "This isn't any different. He really will save us."

Riley fell silent once more behind her.

He would get them out of this. Rose lifted her gaze, trailing it across the stars in that black sky, remembering the last time she had looked up at a night sky and seeing brilliant stars. Has it been only a few months before, when she'd been getting ready for an evening with John Smith? Primping for a human Time Lord with no memories of who he had really been? Was that the last time she'd look up at the stars in silence and nostalgia?

"Why do you have so much faith in him?" Riley asked her softly.

Rose blinked at that, her vision blurring for a moment. "Because…he deserves it. He deserves all of it and more," she replied. Bowing her head slightly, she looked over her shoulder, seeing him in her peripheral vision. "You don't know him like I do. You don't know…the things he can do."

He was still on the floor of the pod, his knees drawn up, his arms embracing them to his chest. "No. No, I don't know him the way you do. But he's just…a bloke, like me. Nothing extraordinary about him, nothing magical. He has a mouth on him, I noticed. Can probably run off. And he sounds fairly intelligent, too. But…"

Rose smiled faintly at his words, her fingers dragging across the window.

"I don't know. This seems like a pretty desperate situation," Riley sighed. "Maybe more than he can handle."

Rose shook her head, lifting it once more and looking out at the stars. With the one sentence, he had just shifted everything into perspective for her. "No," she said firmly, the smile blossoming. "There's nothing he can't handle."

Behind her, she could _feel_ the eyebrow arching on his face. "Wow," he stated quietly. "He's got you hooked pretty well then."

She had to agree with him on that one. "You don't know him," she said again, wishing she could make him understand all the things she knew about her Doctor. "He can do things…that I would never even think of. He can pull off miracles."

There was a long pause from him. "Does he perform miracles regularly? Because we need one of those to get out of our situation." And when she didn't respond to that, he shifted a bit, the sound of his legs moving across the floor. "Where did you meet him?"

Rose blinked once more, thoughts turning inward. "In a department store," she said softly, her heart warming with the mere memory of her Doctor in black leather and piercing blue eyes.

"Just like that then?" Riley asked with a small chuckle.

She shook her head. "No," she answered slowly, thoughtfully. "We were getting into trouble from the start. It was…a mad experience but…" She hesitated, remembering. "I was scared. And he appeared. Took my hand and told me to run."

"To run?" Riley echoed.

She nodded. "Been running ever since."

He was silent for a long while. "Not the best life, is it? Running all the time? Never settling down?"

She disagreed. "It's the best life. It's the only life I would ever want. And he's the only one I would ever want it with-" She was suddenly knocked backward as the escape pod abruptly jolted, Riley sliding. Hesitant, confused, she lifted her head and a small display beside the escape pod hatch lit up with a single word that nearly caused her to break into tears.

Remagnetising.

"We're being pulled back," Riley whispered in disbelief, staring at the sign.

Straightening back to the window, Rose did tear up then, her hands pressing to the glass once more. And she waited, relief slowly beginning to leak into her trembling frame once more as the pod began to return to the ship and to the Doctor.

* * *

Upon reattaching to the ship, Riley moved to the terminal, flicking several switches and buttons quickly. Rose could barely contain herself, searching the corridor once more for the Doctor. He was out of sight if he was there and she felt as if she could scratch straight through the metal doors with her fingernails alone. The terminal beeped behind her and the door under her hands suddenly began to come open with a small hiss. "Doctor!" Rose cried, tripping over the side of the escape hatch and out into the decompression chamber as the doors afforded her enough space to get out. "Doctor, where-" she slid to a halt, finding him on the floor crawling. "Doctor!" Darting toward him she knelt beside him, her hands taking hold of him. "What is it? What's wrong-"

Rolling onto his rear, he stiffened for a single moment, his eyes shut and his frame trembling. And as Rose reached a hand out to his face, his eyes slid open a bit, brilliant white light streaking free. "Stay away from me," he growled at her and he shut his eyes once more, jaw clenching shut.

Rose stared at him, struck dumb as he scampered backward and away, colliding with the wall and pressing himself against it, his frame shaking uncontrollably. Rising to her feet slowly she could only stare at him as he shook almost as if freezing.

Then, quieting for a moment, his jaw slackening but eyes remaining closed, he whispered, "It recognizes you."

Swallowing painfully, she leaned forward slowly. "W-what?"

He didn't respond, jaw clenching shut once more, skin damp in the heat.

Biting down on her cheeks, she moved toward him. She didn't care if he opened his eyes, if he yelled at her again. She needed to be there beside him and needed to comfort him. "Doctor," she whispered, kneeling next to him and bringing her hands to his face, cupping it between her palms. "Doctor-"

"It knows who you are," he said to her, eyebrows drawing in almost sadly. Still maintaining his gaze downward as his eyes slid open a bit once more, he uttered, _"Bad Wolf…"_ And then he shut his eyes tightly once more and screamed, ripping away from her hands and sending her backward in fear.

"What happened?" McDonnell demanded, coming down the corridor and reaching them a moment later. She came to a sudden stop and she stared down at the Doctor as he pushed himself against the wall once more, trembling rigidly.

"It's your fault, Captain McDonnell," he hissed at her.

Straightening at his words, she hesitated for a moment before turning to Riley. "Go help Scannell with the passwords." As he went to object she shouted, "I left him in Area 10. Go!" And she motioned him on firmly.

With a last backward glance he raced off down the corridor.

"What about Ashton?" Rose asked quickly, looking toward the captain and gingerly creeping closer to the Doctor once more. "And…Korwin?"

"They've been taken care of," McDonnell replied to that curtly and she merely stared at the Doctor uncertainly.

"It's your fault!" the Doctor was still shouting at the captain, eyes shut tightly, arching against the wall and straining, hands sliding across the floor erratically. "You mined the surface for cheap fuel, you should've scanned for life!" he shouted hoarsely and he growled, body stiffening in pain.

"What are you going on about?" Rose knelt beside him, her heart breaking as he flailed, legs shifting and not finding a foothold.

"That sun is alive," he hissed. "A living organism. You scooped out its heart, used it for fuel. And now it's _screaming!"_ he cried.

"How can it be alive?" McDonnell demanded, looking at Rose as if she could reply.

"Because it's living in me," the Doctor breathed raspily, causing the both of them to rear back and look at him fearfully.

"Oh my God," McDonnell whispered.

_"What the hell is going on?"_ Rose demanded, whirling on McDonnell reflexively.

"Humans!" the Doctor screamed, eyes shut, frame straining. Sweat rolled down his forehead and Rose inched closer once more, her hands trembling finely. "You grab whatever is nearest and _bleed it dry!"_

"Doctor, what do we do?" she cried, taking hold of him as he hunched over toward her, arms curling around himself painfully. "Tell me-"

"Stasis chamber," he gasped, curling into her as she finally wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Against her neck his skin was hot, boiling over. He was never hot, not like this. She dipped her head closer to his, struggling to hear him, to think as his damp hair brushed her cheek.

"What?"

"They have a stasis chamber. Below minus two hundred," he ordered, groaning, his shoulders trembling. And as she rose to her feet, dragging him with her he shouted, _"Freeze it out of me!"_

Rose looked toward McDonnell, hesitant as the captain also merely stood there, looking lost.

"It'll use me to kill you if you don't," he wheezed against her, heaving in pain, his breath ragged. "The closer we get to the sun the stronger it gets-" He staggered, bringing her to stumble as well. As she swayed sideways he took hold of her by the arms, falling back to his knees and turning his face up toward her. "You can't let this thing win," he gasped behind closed eyes and he hesitated for a moment, his fingers clamping down tight enough to leave bruises. "It wants you. It knows what you are and it _wants_ you-"

She gazed at him, feeling tears spike. "What are you talking about?" she pleaded with him and she managed to pull one arm free, lifting her hand to his face and pushing his damp hair from his forehead.

"The Bad Wolf," he hissed at her in the smallest breath.

Rose's lips tightened into a firm line as her expression threatened to crumble. "I'm not the Bad Wolf anymore," she whispered to him.

"Med-center," he ordered, turning his face from her hand and heaving. "Quickly!"

"C'mon," McDonnell cut in, circling around to the other side of him and taking hold of one of his arms, hefting him to his feet. "Let's take him to the stasis chamber."

Rose fell in line, grabbing hold of his other arm and between the two of them they began to drag him, his figure limp and heavy in their embrace.

_"Help me!"_ a familiar voice shrieked from behind them, causing her to pause in mid-step and glance quickly over her shoulder.

Back where she had just been kneeling with the Doctor, Martha Jones was hunched over, grasping her own Doctor as well. As Rose stopped to stare, her Doctor heaving at her side, Martha went still as if seeing her. The dark-skinned girl's Doctor was screaming, as her own had been only moments before, just as horribly, just as painfully and his arms were wrapped around himself as if he would burst from the strain. Rose paused limply, her own Doctor's weight bearing down on her side.

"Rose-" he growled at her, muffled against his chest.

"I can't," Rose whispered to Martha as the dark-skinned girl stared at her in terror. "I can't see you right now." And as she began to turn away the vision of Martha and her ailing Doctor faded into nothingness, leaving only herself, McDonnell, and the Doctor between them fighting for his life.

* * *

"Impact in 7:30."

* * *

Bursting into the med-center, Rose released the Doctor and dashed forward, pausing before the stasis chamber and staring at it weakly. "I don't know how this…bloody thing _works!"_ she growled at herself and she bent to study the controls, catching quickly onto the dials and buttons.

_"Rose, where are you?"_ the Doctor shouted from behind, a current of panic running under his words.

"I'm here, I'm here," she called back and she raced over to him once more, taking hold of his arm and lifting him up against her. He went, his entire weight pressing down on her and she groaned a bit as she began to drag him to the chamber itself. "Oof, Doctor…time to cut back on the chips a bit, yeah?" she said mirthlessly and he let out a chuckle that ended in a whimper. The sound brought tears to her eyes once more, stinging them as she pushed him toward the slab and helped lift him up onto it. Releasing him, she lifted a hand to press across her mouth fearfully, her figure trembling.

"No one can survive a temperature of minus two hundred," McDonnell said beside her as the Doctor finished hoisting himself up wearily and then stretched out flat on his back in the chamber.

"He's not human," Rose explained to her rapidly, her hand dropping away from her mouth and she circled close to the Doctor, her other palm coming to rest along his face.

"Ten seconds," he whispered to her, turning toward her as if searching for her behind his closed eyes. "That's all I'll be able to take-"

Rose motioned to McDonnell to come around her and pointed to the control board. "You know how to work this thing, don't you?" she demanded. She whirled back around as the Doctor began to shout again, his body flailing on the slab.

"It's burning me up," he hissed through clenched teeth, head falling to the side. "I can't control it. If you don't get rid of it-" His frame went limp for a moment, his face dark, his voice coming out in a hiss. "I could kill you. I could kill you all…"

Rose felt ice spike through her at his words, at the sudden force and aura of _alien_ that seemed to emanate from him. Staring at him, her mouth open in fear, she saw the moment the creature broke through her Doctor and she realized then that it was before her, studying her intently behind his closed eyes even as she looked back keenly.

_"Bad…Wolf…"_ came the Doctor's voice only lower, darker and full of black greed. A moment later, with a gasp that burst into a howling scream he whimpered, "_No!_ Not…_not her…_" and his hand darted out, taking hold of hers and gripping it tightly, almost painfully. "I'm scared. I'm so scared…"

Feeling her expression crumble into tears at his voice, she pulled his hand to her heart for a moment, her fingers trailing against his damp forehead. "I'm here, don't be scared-" she pleaded with him, her shoulders beginning to stiffen painfully as she held back a sob that threatened to break through.

"I may have to regenerate," he cut her off quickly, gasping. "But if it kills me and I regenerate, I may not be rid of it. It may still be in me and it'll keep killing off my regenerations until it takes me over-"

Her hand tightening on his, she dropped her head to his shoulder, feeling the hot tears fall at the frantic sound of his terror. Not another regeneration. Not another change.

At her side McDonnell nudged her to show she was prepared.

Turning her head to look at him from inches away, she trailed her fingertips across his jaw gently. "You ready?" she asked him faintly.

He heaved for a moment and then settled, his frame rigid. "No," he whispered against her, his breath cool in the heat.

Her heart breaking, she pulled away slowly from his shoulder, straightening and then reluctantly releasing his hand. He allowed her, his chest lifting and falling rapidly against the strain. At her side McDonnell was pushing a lever and the stasis chamber became active, his figure sliding in. Lifting her hand to her mouth once more, her shoulders shaking, she looked over as McDonnell set the gauge at 200.

And she began to sob as the Doctor began to scream once more.

* * *

"Heat Shields failing. At five percent. Impact in 4:47."

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty-One: Hot**

"How the hell are we going to fly now?" he asked weakly, Rose staggering as the ship continued to rock.

"Does it matter right now?" she asked him, not unkindly. "Let's just be happy if we make it out alive."


	32. Hot

**A/N: **Hey everybody, this week I'm actually on time! Woohoo! Thanks for all the reviews you guys have left. I'm sorry to some readers if I haven't responded to you for your reviews but sometimes you guys don't sign in or even leave a name, lol! But I still welcome all your reviews and everyone who has the story set on alert or favorite, I really appreciate it! If you happen to leave a signed in review, I'll most likely respond back! :)

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One - Hot:**

Her hands clamped over her ears and her shoulders heaving at the sound of her Doctor's screams, Rose felt her eyes come open as the stasis chamber suddenly faltered and shut down. She hesitated, her gaze darting from the darkened chamber to the controls to her left. Minus seventy. The stasis chamber had stalled barely halfway to the point set. Breathing rapidly, Rose lowered her hands and streaked toward the controls, feeling panic overwhelm her as McDonnell beside her also turned a bemused look at the controls.

"What happened?" Rose demanded rapidly, her hands lifting to the buttons restlessly. "Why did it stop-"

"No!" the Doctor suddenly shouted, causing her to whirl toward his prone figure. He was covered in ice crystals, his frame trembling, his eyes still shut tightly. "Rose! You can't stop it! Not yet!"

Rose spun toward McDonnell as the captain came up at her side, a frown on her perspiring brow. "What happened?" she asked her again quickly.

"Power's been cut in engineering," McDonnell replied tersely and she hesitated, her gaze turning calculating.

Rose stared at her. "But who is down there? Who would do that? I thought you said Korwin and Ashton were taken care of! Is there someone else who would…"

For a long moment McDonnell was silent, Rose almost jumping inside her skin waiting for her to respond. And a second later she recoiled as the captain looked at her knowingly. "I know who it is. Leave it to me." Without another word the woman whirled and darted out the way they had come in.

Rose stared after her in disbelief, her hand raised to the controls. As the Doctor groaned quietly she whirled back around to get the chamber up and running again. She had seen what the captain had done, knew how to operate it. She just didn't understand why there was nothing there to power the machine.

"Rose," the Doctor groaned softly.

"I'm here," she said to him comfortingly, inspecting the machinery in helplessness. She turned to him, reaching out and running a hand across his forehead. As she did so the ice immediately became water under her palm, her skin sliding across his.

"You have to go," he murmured, grimacing.

Rose pulled back a bit, stunned. "What? No. Not a chance. I'm not leaving you-"

"Get to the front," he ordered her, almost wheezing now. "Vent the engines. The sun particles in the fuel. Get rid of them."

She stared at him, her lips parting.

"You have to give back what they took. Please! Just go!" he cried.

She hesitated still, refusing to leave him. It felt like abandonment, turning from him. But if his strategy worked she could very well save him. They would come out of this.

"Go!" He shouted again.

Clamping down on the inside of her cheeks, she drew away her hand, fisting it at her side. "I'll be back for you," she said to him firmly. And squeezing his wrist with her other hand she whirled and raced off, leaving him behind on the slab.

As she ran, the intercom came to life, McDonnell's voice echoing eerily throughout the corridors. "Riley. Scannell…I'm sorry."

She slowed a bit in confusion, lifting her head as she continued to run. A moment later the computer intoned, "Exterior Airlock Opened."

"Oh my God," Rose uttered. Bowing her head she took off once more, running even faster through the corridors.

"Impact in 2:17."

* * *

The Doctor slid from the stasis chamber slab and fell limply to the floor, a cry breaking from him as he crashed. The heat was much too intense, his skin feeling like it was burning. He knew this feeling. He had felt it before. Exhaling tremulously, his shoulders shaking, he pressed his forehead to the floor, feeling it to be cooler than the very air surrounding him but it did nothing to reel back the fire inside him. Pushing against the floor, growling, he cried out, "Rose!"

Stumbling in mid-run, Rose came to a halt and lifted her head as his voice came through the intercom. "Doctor?" she asked faintly, turning to look back the way she had come.

"I can't…hold on," he hissed through clenched teeth, his body shaking, eyes twitching as he struggled to keep them shut. "You have to…give it back. Give it…" And as his voice slipped wearily, he felt the heat wash over him, his strength fading away.

Rose strained to hear, her heart pounding.

When his voice came again, it was no longer the Doctor. _"Burn with me. Bad…Wolf. Burn-"_

Eyes widening, Rose merely spun and continued to run, now no longer caring. "I can do this," she whispered then and her jaw clenched, her body beginning to tighten with adrenaline. "If he can do it for me, I can do this for him."

* * *

"Impact in 1:21."

* * *

When she reached Area 1, her relief exploded at seeing the door open and the two men inside already at the controls. A moment later her relief seeped away as Riley cried frantically, "Why isn't it _working?"_

"Dump the fuel! All of it!" Rose ordered firmly, her skin glistening in the heat radiating throughout the hub as she burst into Area 1.

They looked at her quickly, silence settling in the panic. "What?"

"There are particles from the sun in the fuel. You have to dump it all. _Now!"_ Rose shouted at them as the two men continued to stare.

Hesitating and then glancing at each other, the two suddenly sprang into action, separating and going for dials and controls. Rose watched them, her eyes flying about the room as they began to vent the fuel, listening closely for her Doctor but he was silent on his side.

"Done. Done!" Riley shouted as the ship began to rock and shudder around them. Coming to his side, Scannell lifted a hand to his head in defeat, grimacing as the ship lurched.

"How the hell are we going to fly now?" he asked weakly, Rose staggering as the ship continued to rock.

"Does it matter right now?" she asked him, not unkindly. "Let's just be happy if we make it out alive."

From all around, just as the countdown came to the last few seconds, they waited, shifting about as the ship tossed. And then, as the last second was counted, the mechanical voice sounded. "Impact averted. Impact averted."

With a whoop, Riley jumped up, turning to Scannell. With a beaming grin the two embraced, shouting their relief and joy. Rose hesitated for another long moment, lips parted, but the ship slowly settled to a halt. Hopping up and down excitedly, Riley shouted, "And we have just enough reserves to get us outta here!" With that the two cried out once more, thumping each other on the back.

Rose went to smile with them before reality came down on her like ice water. "Doctor," she whispered, whirling and running.

The corridors of the ship hadn't seemed so vast the first time around. She ran, barely realizing where she was but knowing she was heading toward her Doctor. And as she reached the room where she had left him, he was fighting to his feet, his shoulders heaving. He lifted his head, his dark eyes catching on hers and the grin that swept his face was too much for her. With a gasp that threatened to break her apart, she ran for him, needing to feel his arms around her and wanting to hold him forever. The grin turned into a grateful laugh and then she was in his embrace, his arms wrapping around her slight frame with a grip close to that of steel. She began to laugh breathlessly as his arms wound around her and then he was hefting her clear off the floor, practically crushing her frame to his and she didn't care. All she could feel was his weary frame wracked with half shivers, half laughter, and his lean arms as if he wouldn't let go ever. She felt her feet leave the floor, her entire body supported by his exhausted one but if he didn't mind, neither did she. She pressed her face against his, her arms tight around his neck and he was laughing in her ear still, his breath hot against her skin.

She didn't care. Just couldn't bring herself to care. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to be in his arms and to never have to let go.

But then he was lowering her slowly, still laughing almost hysterically, and as her feet touched the ground she didn't know who made the first move. Or who had initiated it. All she knew was that he lowered her to her feet, his arms winding up her back. And halfway through the motion they met, a frantic kiss that somehow became more in the suddenness of the moment. He was suddenly so very present and so very relieved and she was pressed to him closer than she had ever found herself. But in that very second, in that small eternity, all she could feel and all she could taste was the earthiness of his skin and mouth, her mind spinning with his scent of Time and age. As his hands pulled her closer, dragging her tightly to his frame, she was almost forced backward from the strength of his embrace. But she fought it, pushed herself into him even as he almost seemed to impose himself on her. She realized through a cloud that she could give as good as she got, that in this very moment there were no rules and nothing to fear. He was as relieved as she was to even be alive, to be of his own mind, and the relief was evident in his arms, in his kiss.

She hadn't realized she had groaned against his mouth until he mirrored her almost mindlessly, seeming to growl. The rumble flushed a blazing heat through her frame, her hands taking hold of his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his orange space suit. He had grabbed hold of her fiercely as well, seeming to fight against her lips, his tongue sweeping across hers in a slight caress. The kiss was not in the least gentle and she found herself melting under it, uncertain whether to be frightened or drawn to his emotion. Knowing only that she didn't ever want him to stop. He seemed against the entire notion himself, fingers tightening enough to leave her bruised.

But then, as if cold water had suddenly been thrown at them in the heat, they broke apart. As quickly as they had taken together they just as instantly ripped away from each other. And they stared at each other in heaving silence, lips parted, eyes widening with the realization of what had just happened.

Swallowing, Rose whispered. "Hot. Very…hot."

The Doctor's expression was almost comical, all wide eyes and parted mouth. But an uncertain laugh broke from him. Then a real laugh followed, his mouth twisting into a grin, sweat trailing down his temples.

"Yes," he replied breathlessly. "Very…hot."

With that, Rose went to him once more, flinging her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life.

* * *

"This is never your ship!" Scannell uttered in disbelief.

Rose grinned fully, her hands on her hips as the Doctor threw the crew member a look of feigned hurt. "Course she is! Look at her! Not a scorch mark on her! And it was up to three thousand degrees in here earlier!" He pointed at Scannell knowingly, eyebrows arched.

Scannell shook his head in amazement, eyes scanning the TARDIS as the four of them stood surrounding her. The corridor they had appeared in had quickly lost the heat once the fuel had been dumped back into the sun and now the phone box stood tall, her blue wood unmarred.

"We've sent out an official mayday," Riley said as Rose turned to him, her mouth opening to speak. He smiled at her. "The authorities will be here for us soon."

Scannell glanced at him. "But how to explain what happened here…" he broke off wearily.

The Doctor pursed his lips, hands finding their way into his pockets. "Well, just tell them the truth. The sun needs care and protection just like every other living thing." And with a small index finger salute in farewell he opened the door to the TARDIS and stepped through.

Rose turned to the men once more, smiling. "Good luck, you two. And you-" she motioned to Riley, taking his wrist in her hand and shaking him. "Read up on your music history, yeah?"

"And happy primes," he grinned at her, nodding as she released him.

"Right," she agreed. As she turned to enter the TARDIS she cackled slightly, shaking her head. "Elvis. I still can't believe that worked." And with that she entered the TARDIS, waved goodbye to the crew members and then closed the door of the TARDIS.

"Should we give them one last show?" the Doctor asked from the TARDIS console and he smiled at her as she hesitated just inside the phone box.

There had been a time there where she had been uncertain whether she would ever see the TARDIS or the Doctor again. Now, being inside the phone box once more, she couldn't help but sigh in tremulous relief. As she looked up at him, relishing the mere sight of him at the console, she suddenly felt perfect once more. If a bit tired. "Yes. Absolutely," she replied. And she walked up the ramp to the console, smiling at him as she plopped down on the jump seat.

Before her, hunched over the controls, the Doctor returned her smile before setting the phone box for the jump.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty-Two: Clearing Things Up:**

And the expression pushed her on. That and the relief. The relief that came with being able to tell him everything, to get it all off her chest because she was so confused with everything that was happening, with all the visits from those people. And who knew who else would be coming back after this. Probably no one anymore. Now that the Doctor would know everything, he would fix it all. He had to.


	33. Clearing Things Up

**A/N: **Hey all! I'm sending out a day early! I'm on vacation starting tomorrow for the next week and have tons of errands to take care of before heading out to PA for the weekend hence the early chapter. This one is a biggie and explains a ton of stuff, hope you guys like it! Thanks for the reviews and the alerts, I LOVE IT! And I love chatting with you all so drop me a message! :)

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two - Clearing Things Up:**

"Go on. Take a look."

She didn't trust him. After what had happened the last time they had stopped on a leisure planet, she'd had just about enough of leisure planets for a little bit. She studied him intently as he returned her look, his lip curling almost like that of a petulant child.

"Please. I promise not to get us killed."

She rolled her eyes at that one, arms crossing over her chest. "You can't just _promise_ that! You don't know what's out there! You can't just _say_ that and expect me to be-"

"I very well _do_ know what's out there!" he cut her off indignantly. He pointed toward the doors of the TARDIS, cocking his head a bit. "Outside that door awaits the wonderful leisure planet Deamus. Currently they're in their eighth season which equals your Autumn. The leaves are falling here as well but the leaves are blue and yellow, sometimes purple. All in all, _exactly_ the same as your Autumn. So you might need a jacket but beyond that all you'll be needing is yours truly as a guide. Better?"

"No." Said quite bluntly.

"Rose…" And now he was definitely whining, hands lifting toward her, fingers curling in sorrowful exasperation. "You can't hide from every leisure planet we stop on."

She threw him the _"Says who?"_ eyebrow.

He arched his own brow at that, shifting gears. "Rose Tyler! I'm trying to do you a favor! The worlds outside the doors of the TARDIS are magical! Unlike any other! How many people do you know can say they've visited other worlds? I'll tell you how many! None! At all!"

She let a frown cross her face. "Oi! That's not fair! Anyone who used to come with us is either stuck in an alternate reality or dead!"

They both hesitated at her words, the sudden somberness falling between them.

And then they both shouted in unison, "Adam!"

"I'm not going back for him," the Doctor said flatly.

"Definitely not," Rose agreed. "Couldn't trust him the first time around." And as she mulled it over once more she finally gave in. "All right, all right. I'll take a look. But I better not end up someone's slave or in danger of any kind! If we're going to a leisure planet, I want to _go_ to a leisure planet!" She said, pointing a reprimanding finger at him as his lips twisted once more in satisfaction at having won an argument. And then she lifted the opposite hand to her eyes and rubbed at them wearily. "I know I can definitely use a break."

The Doctor hesitated at her words, his eyes drawing close to her face and then hovering there. And quietly he said, "You have been looking a bit tired, I've noticed. More so than…usual."

She glanced at him as he broke off quietly. "More so than usual? What's that mean?"

He shrugged. "It _means_ more so than usual. I can't imagine what else it can mean, Rose. It means you've been looking absolutely knackered for the last few months and now it's just…blatantly staring me in the face. Almost rudely, in fact. And you won't even explain what _it_ is!"

Her expression was priceless. From looking confused to looking like she wanted him to explain but then shifting back to trying to figure out his words herself. Finally, her frown becoming all the more prominent, she blurted out, "What?"

He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to explain. But then, as if he no longer wanted to upset her he shook his head at her question and motioned her along, turning his frame in the direction of the TARDIS doors. "Never mind, doesn't matter. Let's just go outside and enjoy-"

"No, wait," she refused, her hand reaching out to tug at his elbow and pulling him back around to face her. "We're nowhere near done with this conversation, so come on. Out with it. Explain what you mean."

He allowed her to turn him around, a huffy set to his jaw before chanting curtly, "You first."

She stared at him, a smile fighting to break over her face. "Did you…are you…are you _pouting_? At _me?_" she demanded with an incredulous laugh, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

He glared at her in feigned outrage. "I do not _pout_, Rose Tyler! I…_brood_." And the word was said with something akin to disdain.

She did laugh then, a chortle at his mood. "No, that was the _old_ you. _He_ brooded. You _sulk!"_ And she threw her head back and laughed gleefully as his face twisted, looking for all he was worth like he wanted to sputter childishly. She turned away, continuing to laugh, and began to walk down the ramp leading to the doors of the TARDIS. He followed after a moment, a hand swiping his overcoat from the rails, his form quickly catching up to her. And just as she opened the door to slip through he lifted his palm and shoved the door shut once more, immediately leaning his weight against it.

Rose pulled up short. "Wha-" she uttered. And she turned to him. "Rude," she stated, lifting a surprised look at him.

His head was bowed, his coat hanging from his clenched fist, the other hand still holding the TARDIS door shut.

Rose stared at him, tilting her head at bit for a better look at his down-turned face. "What's wrong?" And after a moment she motioned, "Look, I'm sorry if you think I insulted you, yeah? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, it was a joke-"

"It's not about that," he cut her off quietly, his shoulders stiff, his eyes on the floor of the TARDIS.

Frowning now, a small shiver running up her spine at his tone and at the mere picture of him, she took a step closer to him, her hand lifting to his arm gently. "Then what?"

Hesitating a small instant as his gaze lifted to meet hers, he merely remained silent for a long time, his eyes darting back and forth between each hazel iris. And it was there once more, that hint of summer he found so endearing. He could stay caught by her eyes for so many lifetimes, many more regenerations. Instead he lowered his hand from the TARDIS door and reached out to take hold of her hand in his, gently.

She stared at him now, her lips parted, her eyes worried.

"Come back inside with me, back over-" and he motioned toward the console with a nod of his head.

Blinking apprehensively, Rose allowed him to lead her gingerly and they floated back toward the console, hand in hand, heads bowed. His walk was slow, his gestures almost timid as he folded his coat over the ramp railing but she knew better. He was not timid. He was merely uncertain of how to continue.

They reached the console and she leaned her rear against the controls, gazing up at him as he came to a stop beside the monitor, his thumb brushing back and forth across her knuckles. It was a soft touch, an absentminded one that thrilled her nonetheless with its thoughtless tenderness.

"Just tell me, yeah?" she asked him softly, bending toward him and tilting her head so she could look at his eyes.

He lifted his head at her words, his lips parted. "Yes. Exactly," he murmured and he took a step closer to her as he spoke, staring at her as if wounded. "Just tell me."

She paused uncertainly. "Tell you what?" she asked him softly, her head rising as he took another step closer to her. She blinked in confusion, her hand in his tightening warily. "What is it, Doctor?"

He exhaled in a weary laugh, a pained breath. "What is it," he stated, echoing her and his eyes dropped to their joined hands, his own lifting hers up and close to his chest. Merely examining it as if he found it curious. "What is it," he said once more quietly and this time he turned his eyes back toward hers, slanting his head as he paused before her, against her. Close enough that she could count her breaths and feel them almost bounce off his frame.

She didn't know what to say. "Doctor?"

His lips meeting in a firm line, eyes dropping to their joined hands, he suddenly said rigidly, "Martha Jones. The redhead, Donna Noble. Jack Harkness. Explain it to me. All of it." And then, in a pained breath, "Please."

She felt her own breath catch at that, her eyes widening slightly. He caught her expression, his own eyes also becoming the slightest bit larger as he waited for her, as if he seemed to _breathe_ her. And the more she stared at him, the more _open_ she felt, the more she felt he could see clear through to her center, to everything she had been hiding from him. She blinked, her breath rattling as she tried to think, as she tried to stall even. But her mind had gone completely blank and the more time passed, the more she understood that he was waiting on her, waiting for her to say something. Waiting for her to tell him the truth because he somehow already _suspected_ something was going on.

And then a terrible realization came to mind and her heart froze in her chest, an irrational anger rising inside. "Are you reading my mind?" she demanded, a frown creasing her brow at him and she made a motion to pull her hand from his but he resisted, his fingers turning into steel. "Have you read my mind before?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he stated, a frown now curling his own eyebrows in. "It doesn't work that way. And you know me better than that, you know I would never intrude-"

She quickly lifted her free hand, clamping it down over his mouth and silencing his words. "You're right. Don't keep answering that. I'm sorry, Doctor, I didn't mean to ask that. I didn't even mean-" And she bowed her head, shaking it slowly.

It had been stupid of her to jump to conclusions. She had no reason to doubt him. He had never given her reason to believe that he would sacrifice any part of their friendship so flippantly, so carelessly. It was just that-

"I don't know what to believe anymore," she said to him softly, grimacing.

He stared down at her from behind her curled fingers, tilting his head a bit to get a better look at her but she continued to shake it, to turn away from his eyes. "What's wrong?" he prodded her on, taking hold of her hand to pull it away from his lips. And then he pressed her hand flat to his chest, directly over a beating heart. She lifted her head as he did so, feeling it thump against her palm and the delicate center of her hand. "I don't like seeing you like this, Rose. It's unhealthy-"

"Like what?" she asked him numbly, her eyes fixed on her hand still, on his hand over hers with the long fingers almost protectively encasing hers. "Seeing me like what?"

"Like…" he murmured slowly, hesitantly, "like you know something and are hiding it from me. And like it's hurting you to have to hide it from me." He tilted his head toward hers to catch her eyes and she lifted them to his, feeling the gentle beat still under her hand. "I would never want you to hide anything from me. Especially not if all I've ever wanted to do was protect you."

She gazed at him wordlessly, saw the confusion in his eyes mixed with the earnestness. And she was foolish to have thought that hiding something like this from him was proper. Because even if she had thought that, they were still coming to her, those people from her future. They still showed up to her which meant all their efforts were doing nothing to prevent the tragic future they continued to allude to.

"They're from the future," she whispered finally and as she spoke the words she saw his face slowly become hard, his jaw clenching silently as her words sank in, as he understood their meaning. And she knew the anger was not directed at her. "I thought for a long time that they were just regular people like me, or that if they were from the future they were trying to prevent things from happening. But it's not like that. Or it is but…" She shook her head in confusion and her expression was mirrored in her Doctor's face now as he listened intently.

As she made a gesture to pull away a bit, trying to find the right words, he tightened his grip on her hand, followed her a step to keep her close even as she tried to pull free. "Keep going. Tell me more. Tell me all of it."

"But I don't understand-" she began.

"Doesn't matter," he cut her off curtly. "We'll make sense of it. I just need you to tell me more about it."

She caught his eyes once more, hesitating for a long moment and as he maintained his firm expression she sighed quietly. "Ok. They visited me, Martha Jones first. Remember her? The dark-skinned girl?" And as he nodded at her she murmured in an offhand breath, "Right, 'course you do. You just brought her up to me a second ago. Ok. Well, she was the first one. A week before the hospital. Do you remember that? How I had a secret?"

He nodded once more wordlessly.

She nodded as well. "She was the first one to come to me. I was coming out of the flat, our second day back. Our second day…together," she explained and she didn't understand why talking about the two of them being together again was awkward. Only she knew a moment later what it was about that entire incident that made it awkward. It was not that it had started with Martha Jones. "No…" she broke off, frowning softly and now he was watching her closely, his face betraying nothing but attentiveness. "It was…before that. Before she showed up. It was starting…"

Did that make sense? What had he said that night, when she had first come into her room, the night that he had vanished from her bed? But no. It was even before that. It was at the café. That's where it had all started. Right from the beginning it had presented itself, this confusion. The merging of the worlds, as Jack had said.

He continued to gaze at her still and she had no doubt he also was attempting to piece it together. Only he couldn't unless she gave him all the information she had.

"Our first day back…I saw things," she began now, fully. "We had just come back, you had brought me home to the Powell Estates. And I took the walk. I stopped by this café, because I saw…well, you. I saw you. Only you didn't hear me. Or you didn't see me. Or I don't know. You just didn't…_acknowledge_ me," she said to him and he was staring at her intently, his dark eyes slightly wide but purposeful.

And the expression pushed her on. That and the relief. The relief that came with being able to tell him everything, to get it all off her chest because she was so confused with everything that was happening, with all the visits from those people. And who knew who else would be coming back after this. Probably no one anymore. Now that the Doctor would know everything, he would fix it all. He had to.

"I was calling your name. And the woman was singing in French. And the piano. It was just…she had such a…haunting voice, her voice…" she murmured and her eyes shifted down a bit as she remembered the woman and the man at the piano. Her voice had been soft, mournful. And the world had seemed almost out of sync, listening to her and trying to talk to her Doctor at the same time. Only to have him ignore her, treat her as if she hadn't been crouched beside him. "And at one point I looked away or something…and you were gone. I had people all around me, asking me if I was ok and I'm sitting there thinking, that's it. I've lost my bloody mind, gone completely daft. And I looked for you but you were just gone and everyone was asking me if I needed a doctor because I was calling…for you. I was calling for you, Doctor. But you weren't there-"

"No, I wasn't," he acknowledged. "Not me. Perhaps at some point I come back to sit at that café. I've never visited any such café in the past and definitely not while listening to a French singer. Although it is a marvelous language, French. Do you remember-"

"Madame de Pompadour?" Rose asked with a bit of a snip to her tone. "Yeah, we don't need to bring that up right now."

He hesitated. "Right. I wasn't actually…thinking about her but that's fine." And he managed to loop the conversation back where he wanted it. "So tell me more. There's a lot more, isn't there?"

Rose fought to uncurl the corner of her lips. "Yeah, there's more. Because I felt like a complete idiot after that. They must've thought I'd lost my mind in that café. I went home. Back to the Powell estate after that. That's where you found me that night. Remember? In my room?"

He nodded wordlessly, his gaze thoughtful.

"And remember how I asked if you had just been in the room with me? And you said no, that you'd just gotten there?"

He nodded silently once more, now focusing on her again.

She gazed at him. "Right. Well, I came home and I found you. In my room." And she frowned, recalling that night. "Or at first I was alone. But then you were suddenly there. And you…said something…"

"_It's different now. That sunset. It's different. Like it knows you're not here anymore."_

"You said something about…not being there anymore…about it being different…" she murmured hoarsely, struggling to remember. "But I…can't. I can't remember it well. Or I don't understand it, I mean. You were on the bed and I was with you. But then, when you showed up next to the bed, you asked if I always sleep the way I was and you were gone from the bed and were at the foot of my bed instead. Does this make sense? Am I rambling?" she demanded and she sounded thoroughly confused and almost heartbroken.

"Yes, you're rambling," he let her know, his eyes sad yet tender. "But that's a very attractive quality in you, Rose Tyler. In all people. In fact never change it. Rambling should be required for everyone. A mandatory class in school. A profession in life. Professional Ramblers. Can't you just see it?" And a smile broke on his face, his eyes suddenly excited. "Imagine the pay rate for someone in that field! Oh, that would be marvelous-"

She slowly lifted her free hand and placed it over his lips once more gently, her eyes trained on his.

Behind her palm, as he was kindly cut off, he mumbled, "Yes, you're right."

Swallowing sadly, silently, her hand fell away once more, her other still clutched under his and he tightened his grip for a moment reassuringly. "So what do I do? Why is this happening?" she asked him. And she quickly added, "I mean, I know why this is happening. They're cryptic with what they say, like they don't want me to know exactly what happens in the future but they need me to know something is going on. And I never see _you_. They always talk about you but it's never you who comes to see me-"

"No, it wouldn't be," he said to her firmly. "I know better than to risk a jaunt to the past where I can encounter myself. Because you, Rose Tyler, are hardly ever away from me. And very few times do I _not_ know where you are. No…" his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, almost seeming to calculate. "He would know that. He would allow someone else to come back to speak to you. But why you and not me?"

She stared at him, her lips parting slowly in response.

"Rather, there's more that I can do than you if it comes down to it. And this is ongoing. This has been going on for quite a bit so it's something…most important, per se. It's not…little things that will determine what happens. This stems from something big. Bigger than we expected. But it _can't_ be-" He suddenly released her hand, stepping away from her to lift a hand to his hair in frustration and she was left bereft, cold without his warmth. "I would know! I would _know_ if it was something like that. I would feel it, all the little shivers. And I would _see_ it. I would see the changes. I can't see anything different. It all flows together, all…" He squinted at the console, his hand caught in his wild hair, his eyes shifting across the controls madly.

Rose gazed at him, her eyebrows drawing in sadly. "Tell me," she whispered. "Make me understand-"

"No," he whirled on her suddenly and there was a dark insistence in his expression, a sharp rigidity to his shoulders. _"You_ tell _me._ Tell me more. Tell me all of it. Because this shouldn't be-" He broke off, a hand lifting to swipe across the air firmly. "This shouldn't _be."_

She fought the urge to take a step back from him as he leveled a sharp gaze at her.

"Just…tell me what else happened," he said to her, his voice falling a bit more steadily.

Breathing shallowly, her eyes darting around quickly as she searched her memory, she stuttered, "Um…ok…there was Martha! Martha Jones. She came to see me that first time, the morning after you disappeared from my room. So I ran into her outside…outside my flat. And she told me…she told me…" she grimaced trying to remember the dark-skinned girl's words. "I can't…"

Striding back toward her, the Doctor took hold of her by her arms firmly, but as she found herself hunching instinctively she understood that he was attempting to soothe her. "Just tell me what you remember, Rose. Start from the beginning of the day and just tell me. It's fine if you don't remember word for word but I need the gist of it."

She swallowed, nodding gingerly. "Ok. Ok. But…you need to let go because you're cutting off the blood to my-" And she exhaled faintly as he quickly loosened his grip, instead maintaining his grasp but rubbing the skin where he had taken hold of her. "Thanks."

He managed a wry smile. "This is…agitating me. Greatly."

She tilted her head at him, blond hair falling across her shoulders and his fingers where he held her still. "I know. I'm trying to remember. She just…we ran into each other. She seemed…surprised, actually. To see me." She nodded as she brought up the memory, as she remembered the look on Martha's face. "She said it was sudden. Something like that. And she said…" She hesitated, frowning. "She said she knew so much about me. But that I didn't know her. And that something, all this, she said...that all this seemed like a miracle but it wasn't. It was a disaster."

"All what?" the Doctor asked her darkly.

"This," she stated firmly, motioning all about. "That I'm here. That it's a disaster. One you were trying to fix."

"That _I_ was trying to fix?" he echoed in confusion.

"The other you. The other Doctor. _Her_ Doctor. That's how she said it. She said, _'My Doctor'."_ She raised her eyebrows at him. "And for me not to tell you."

"Why not?" he demanded shortly.

"Because you would try to fix it. And you would only make more of a mess of it," she finished quietly. And as he stared at her she added quickly, "But there's nothing _wrong_, you said. Because you can't _see_ anything wrong, it's what you just said-"

"Nothing _is_ wrong!" he stated loudly, his grip tightening the slightest bit once more. "There is nothing wrong-"

"But I'm not imagining it!" she replied just as hotly. "I'm not imagining the visits or…or the _visions!_ I'm seeing people and things, things we've done, only other people are doing them and I'm not imagining it!"

He stared at her, his face pinched in confusion. "Hold on, back up a bit. What?"

She hesitated. "What what?" she asked him in return, almost reluctantly.

"That's my line," he countered. "You said visions. _'Seeing people and things.'_ That's what you just said. Explain that last part. What visions, what things?"

"Oh." She paused. "Well, I was getting to that but you turned _Oncoming Storm_ on me so I didn't get a chance."

He gave her a withering look.

"The day you stayed overnight at the hospital, with the…planetary police…whatever they were…the rhinoceros-looking aliens?" she said questioningly, faltering.

"Judoon."

"Them," she nodded. "The day that all happened, when we actually met Martha Jones, remember? I saw…something else. I saw a vision of you. But not you. Because I had just seen you and you had just…you'd just…"

"I'd just what?" he prodded her on.

She felt the need to reach out and strangle him suddenly. Inhaling and then releasing the breath shortly she growled, "The kiss. Remember the kiss?"

He hesitated at the memory, his mouth opening into a slight o, his eyes shifting sideways momentarily. And then he released one of her shoulders to point at her with a rigid index finger. "That was a _genetic transfer-"_

"Right. That. Whatever." She rolled her eyes as he clenched his jaw almost childishly. "Anyway, you had just run off after the _genetic transfer_ and I was left with those _Judoon_," she stressed in irritation. "And when I turned back around to try to stall them, I saw you. Again. Only I guess it wasn't you. Or not _my_ you. It was Martha's Doctor. With Martha. And he did his _genetic transfer_ with her also-"

"Ah-hah! See? Genetic transfer," he said with a satisfied nod.

She stared at him with barely constrained annoyance, continuing on. "After that her Doctor ran off the same way you did, down the hallway, and when I turned back to look for her she was gone, too. Just like that. As if she hadn't even been there to start."

The Doctor settled back once more, finally releasing her fully and eyeing her knowingly. "But that isn't the only example you have for me, is it?" he asked her quietly. And as she looked at him wearily he lifted his head back, eyes widening slightly. "Oh, there are more. Quite a few more."

Rose understood that look. "Yeah. There are a few times I've seen you. Not future you. I guess, the other you that pops up sometimes. Times I've seen two different things happen the same way only with different people. And things that have happened that make it seem like…"

The Doctor bowed his head, his eyes prodding her on.

"That make it seem like any changes we try to make aren't going to work out," she sighed. And she motioned toward the back rooms of the TARDIS with a mindless gesture. "When Donna came. She told me to get a blue dress. Because in the future I have a black dress. A black dress that you-"

_A black dress that you fancy._

Shaking her head, her eyes closing as she struggled to change her sentence, she said, "The black dress that you got me. I had wanted to get it originally. For the time we went to Gamorra. But Donna asked me to get the blue one so I did. And then when I got here-"

The Doctor stared at her as she cut off, as she gazed at him helplessly.

"I didn't want to tell you," she said to him quietly, in the breath of a whisper, her heart abruptly aching. "I love the dress. _Love _it. And so do you-"

"I got it for you because I saw you eyeing it," he responded haltingly, almost mechanically. As if he suddenly didn't want to hold the conversation.

Her gaze turned sadly sweet, a small smile quirking her lips. "She told me you got it because you liked me in it," she revealed to him.

And her words caused him to recoil slightly, making him seem as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Hastily, he suddenly turned from her and moved away, putting distance between them. Rose stared after him, her eyes settling on his shoulders and they were square, drawn up tightly. "You shouldn't tell me anymore," he said firmly, his back to her.

She paused, caught off guard. "You were the one who wanted me to tell you everything," she argued. "You asked-"

"Yes. That was my mistake," he replied instantly, head lifting though he did not face her still. "We're not to know that future. We are not to know what will happen-"

"This isn't the future!" she cried. And as he turned to look at her she sent him a beseeching look. "This is happening now! Real time! Two alternate lines of the same timeline!"

The Doctor stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "What are you saying?" he demanded almost inaudibly.

She broke off at the look that was crossing his face, the shadow that seemed to be falling over it. "I-"

"Who told you that?" he asked and this time, when he neared, his hands wrapping around her shoulders were stronger than the last time. And she sensed the fine trembling that raced through his limbs into those clawed fingers. _"Who told you that?"_

"Jack!" she cried, hands curling into her chest and she shrugged free of him, yanking her frame away with a glare.

He came to a sudden stop, his clawed fingers still before him, his face pale. And tilting his head, his voice low and ominous, he murmured, "You told me it was nothing. Nothing I had to worry about. That's what you said. That it was _safe-"_

"Well, I didn't know!" she shouted at him. And as he straightened his head once more, jaw clenching, she raised her hands and propped them on her hips, grimacing at feeling the reddened skin where he had taken hold of her. If she didn't bruise in the morning she was going to be surprised out of her head. "I wasn't supposed to tell you because they asked me not to. And now that you know, you _still_ don't see anything different so what does it _matter_? What's the point? Maybe there's nothing wrong now! Maybe he was able to fix it, the future you. Maybe it's all fine now-"

"The point is I should have been able to _see_ it. At the very least. And the point is that you should have _told_ me all about this from the beginning," he rapped out at her. "You're better than that, Rose. I _believe_ you to be better than-"

"Don't you do that to me!" she yelled, at him and she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I had people coming back with _specific_ instructions from _the future you_ to not _tell_ you! How many Doctors am I supposed to listen to?" she cried in disbelief. She motioned at him furiously with a stiff index finger. "You don't know what it is to have to deal with you sometimes! Whatever I do, I somehow manage to get you pissed off at me! Take off those bloody blinkers for _one second_ and look at all this from my point of view, yeah?"

"And how would you like me to accomplish that, Rose Tyler!" he cried. "The very thought of my peeking into your thoughts had you wound up not even ten minutes ago!"

Recoiling, her fingers itching in anger, Rose stared at him speechlessly, her thoughts dwindling to silence. And then a moment later she whirled around. "Bugger this. I'm done. I'm going to my room. Come get me when you _grow up."_

He sighed from behind, his voice sounding frustrated. "Rose…"

"Piss off," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the doorway leading to the inner rooms of the TARDIS.

Moving amazingly fast, the Doctor slipped in front of her, blocking her way into the back rooms. Finding herself suddenly in his arms as he moved to stop her, she swatted at him angrily, countless flapping of her hands. He released her with an "Ow!" as she caught him with one last slap on the arm. And when he straightened, she had an index finger leveled at him firmly.

"Make up your mind!" she ordered him, her jaw clenching, her brown eyes flaming with anger.

"Ok, ok. You're right," he said to her with several nods of his bowed head, his hands lifting in a sign of peace before him. "I apologize. I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"You had better be!" she cried at him and she drew her finger back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, do you want to know or not? And whatever you answer, you had better be sure that's how you want it to be!"

The Doctor hesitated, hands still raised calmly, eyes trailing down her face. "I…don't know yet," he answered slowly.

_"Doctor!"_

"I know, I know!" he said with another nod, eyes closing with the gesture. And grimacing, he lowered his hands carefully, lips pressing into a firm line. "Ok. Yes. I want to know. I want to know all of it."

Rose arched a brow at him, head tilting slightly as her expression demanded he be clear of his answer.

"Yes," he repeated. And then, reaching out slowly, he wrapped his fingers around one of her wrists, dragging her hand away from her chest. "Yes, I want to know. Over tea. Come on. It will calm us both down."

She fought him for a moment, her jaw clenching. But as he sent her another apologetic look she rolled her eyes, her arms falling limply at her side. "Fine. Go on."

Carefully, quite aware of her still smoldering anger, he motioned with his head and began to lead her toward the kitchens of the TARDIS, his fingers light around her wrist. The walk there served to cool her irritation and once they had reached the kitchen she held his hand with her own, both of them silent. Releasing her after a long moment, he went to the tea pot to fill it and she moved to the cupboards, reaching in to pull out two mugs and packets of tea silently. Once it was set to boil, the Doctor seated himself at the counter, waiting on her as she set the two mugs beside each other and then joined him.

"No anger," he promised her as she looked at him wearily. "Just worry. Go ahead."

Her jaw shifting slightly as she settled, she inhaled deeply. "Ok. I left off with Jack. But I'm not supposed to be telling you this, Doctor. They don't want you doing something at this point in time to mess up what they're doing in the future to fix whatever shambles we're in."

The Doctor bowed his head, seeming to feel the need to argue but managing to hamper it. "Right. I understand. And I won't do anything. But I do need you to tell me everything. I need to make sure no one gets hurt with what is going on here."

Rose gazed at him. And she leaned across the counter, reaching for his hand. He gave it wordlessly, meeting her eyes and managing a faint smile for her as she sent him an anxious look. "I know. I get that. But for now just listen to me and then later we'll figure out what it all means. Yeah?"

He hesitated at her question but after a moment he nodded in reply.

"Ok," she breathed. And she released his hand, tapping it slightly. "I'll pick up with Donna." Swallowing slightly, Rose straightened on the stool, arms crossing on the counter. "When I met…Donna Noble, she was following us around. Remember? I asked you about the woman with the ginger hair?" At his nod she continued, "He had sent her, the future you, to talk to me."

"Concerning what?" he asked quietly.

Tilting her head, she reached to fiddle with an earring thoughtfully. "She told me…that something was coming. But for me not to tell you because they were attempting something in the future that could iron out the problems we're having here and now. She mentioned that they were close. To fixing it, I guess. But then Jack came to talk to me so I really don't even know anymore."

The Doctor was silent for a long moment. He knew what he wanted to ask. He just wasn't asking it yet.

"You want to know what's coming," Rose murmured with a knowing look.

His eyes widened slightly but he remained quiet nonetheless.

"I don't know what's coming," she answered still. She shrugged, her hand falling away from her earring and she looked toward the tea pot blindly, musing. "She never told me. Jack didn't tell me either. But I think whatever it is, they're trying to fix it. Because…" And finally she broke off, her breath feeling somehow strangled in her throat.

The Doctor was hesitant as well. "Because…"

Pausing, her words feeling heavy suddenly, she lifted her eyes to him. And when he met them he straightened, his lips parting. She knew what he saw. An abrupt change in her face, an unexpected pain in her eyes.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here," she whispered mournfully.

The Doctor stared at her, stunned speechless. And even as her words sank into him he was already shaking his head at that, eyes darting to the countertop. "No. That's not…"

Rose watched him, her eyes trailing over his face and shoulders as he stammered on.

"I would sense it, Rose," he explained to her. He lifted a finger motioning to the kitchen, to everything. "If you were not meant to be here I would know it. I would see it. I would know everything wrong because I would need to fix it. There's nothing wrong with you being here. You were meant to be here-"

"But you don't see the alternate timelines either," she said to him quietly, causing him to look at her. "You don't see where one timeline branches from the first. You don't see the same things I see. The book, that Matron had-" she splayed her hands as if she held the book at that very moment. "I saw things in her version of the book that I didn't see in my own. That I _still_ don't see in my own."

The Doctor's face was solemn, a small smile quirking the corners of his lips. "You still have the journal?" he asked her.

She returned his look, her expression soft. "Yeah. I'm going to keep it forever," she whispered.

The Doctor gazed at her for a long moment in silence, his face unreadable. But then his gaze dropped back to the counter top, his hands coasting across it absentmindedly. "Well, I'll let you know what I think," he said, inhaling deeply.

Rose leaned forward, waiting for him.

Pursing his lips as he mused momentarily, he finally said, "I think…that whatever I'm doing in the future to fix the problems they're facing…is working. I don't see anything wrong with the timelines, quite possibly because they could very well be fixed by now. And I think I wasn't alerted, neither myself nor the TARDIS, to these problems because…perhaps they just weren't meant to affect us. Maybe what you've seen are bits and pieces of their attempts to clear up the timeline. Have you seen anything since? Other than Jack coming back to you? Have you seen shifts in the timeline? Other people doing the things you are doing as well?"

Rose hesitated. "I saw…Martha. On the Pentallian. When the sun was taking you over, the same thing was happening on her side. To you. I saw a different version of you and you were being taken over as well. That was the last time I saw anything like that." She broke off uncertainly. "Is…is that a good thing?"

The Doctor couldn't respond for a moment, his shoulders lifting to shrug. "I…couldn't even tell you," he answered bitterly. And he glanced over, Rose jumping, as the tea pot began to sing. Rising, he moved toward the pot and removed it from the flame. "I will tell you this, though. If they have the problem solved, or close to being solved in their time, I'm more than willing to leave it in their very capable hands. In _my_ very capable future hands, if I do say so myself."

Rose snickered at that, causing him to throw her a small grin as he set about preparing the tea. "Then…" she prodded him, leaning her elbows on the counter and shifting restlessly. "You forgive me for not telling you?" she asked.

The Doctor slowed in pouring the tea. "To be quite honest, I forgave you the moment after you told me. A part of me knew you hadn't held back from telling me to be cruel. You had your reasons for not telling me." Finishing with her mug, he reached out and set it in front of her on the counter before turning to his.

Rose dragged the mug close to her frame, feeling the heat rise from the liquid. "And we'll leave it now?" she asked him. "We'll let them do what they have to do? Just the way they wanted?"

The Doctor was already nodding as he finished up his own mug and brought it over. "Yes. I will distance myself from the issue and see what comes of it. But if there are more visits, more problems with the timelines, I need you to tell me. Don't hide things like this from me, Rose. The future Doctor and I are still the same person. We only want-" And he broke off as he settled into the seat opposite her, playing with the handle of the mug silently.

She smiled at his bowed head, wanting him to look at her but content with merely gazing at his profile. "I know." And as he finally lifted his head to look at her she smiled and took a sip of the tea.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty-Three: Summer In Those Eyes**

Wordlessly, the Doctor turned left and bolted, hauling the girl after him. Stumbling at the sudden movement she quickly righted herself and ran, following closely, their hands caught together. He was breathing hard, heaving almost, but not from exertion.

It was falling apart, here and now.


	34. Summer In Those Eyes

**A/N: **Sorry all, it's been a CRAZY hectic week. With vacation and being sick at the end of my vacation, I've been just out of commission. So I'm catching up today and hoping you guys all like the new chapter! Leave a review if you can, thanks for the alerts and faves and have a great day!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Three – Summer in Those Eyes:**

"You want me to just _leave_ you?" the young woman demanded, her hand holding his tightly as he ran ahead of her, yanking her along behind. "Dad, stop! I'm not going to leave you!"

"You have to," he said to her through gritted teeth, coming to a stop at the end of the TARDIS corridor and looking around quickly. A frown crossed his forehead as he grimaced, searching the hallways in question. "What? This isn't-"

"Stop and talk to me!" his daughter cried as they both hesitated, gazing at him pleadingly as he looked left then right, his free hand lifting to run through his wild hair in panic.

"She's changing it," he whispered huskily under his breath, eyes wide as he examined the corridors branching off from the main hallway they were in. Left and right. "S-she's changing the layout of the TARDIS. We're running in _circles-"_

"What are we going to do?" she asked from beside him, now looking back and forth as well. "That's back the way we came," she uttered, pointing to their right. She turned and looked back over her shoulder to see the exact same coral corridor behind her as well, her figure coming to a stiff stop. "That's-"

"Not impossible," he cut her off even as she went to say it. "Highly improbable. But not impossible. Not for her." Seeing the sudden movement behind his daughter, the Doctor dragged her back, yanking her behind his frame protectively.

_She_ was at the foot of the corridor.

Looking toward their right he encountered the same corridor and the same glowing woman at the foot of that hallway as well.

Seeing her to their right, his daughter jumped and let out a small squeak of surprise, recoiling up against the Doctor. "How is she-"

Wordlessly, the Doctor turned left and bolted, hauling the girl after him. Stumbling at the sudden movement she quickly righted herself and ran, following closely, their hands caught together. He was breathing hard, heaving almost, but not from exertion.

It was falling apart, here and now.

"I'm not leaving you," his daughter called out as they made it to the end and out into another long, gold-lit hallway. "Do you _hear_ me?"

"Jenny, we have to find a way to get you out first before we can fuss and moan about it," he rapped out sharply, coming to a stop and feeling her stumble into him from behind. Wordlessly, panic looming ever closer, he lifted his free hand to the wall beside him, splaying his fingers against the coral.

_Help me, _he pleaded mentally.

_She_ had said that once to him. Once upon a time, during his regenerative cycle when his former body had perished from absorbing the time vortex, a golden-haired girl had asked him for help. When the pilotfish had arrived and the Christmas tree had come to life dangerously, _she_ had asked for his help at his bedside and he had given it, even in his weakened state.

Now he asked it of the TARDIS.

The golden woman appeared behind them a moment later, at the foot of the corridor they had just left, and his daughter backed up into him, pointing shakily. "Dad…"

Closing his eyes against the underlying fear in his daughter's voice, he asked once more silently, reaching out to the TARDIS with his thoughts.

_Help me._

A shift raced down the entire hallway, golden light flaring and flashing. Opening his eyes, he waited, feeling the change sweep toward him and past them both, his daughter pressed to his back, still looking down the corridor at the woman.

"Run," he ordered his daughter and she looked back toward him then around him, suddenly aware that the corridor before them had changed, warped. Now standing midway down a completely different hallway, they took off once more, nearing the head of the corridor and the doorway that lead to the console room.

"She's still following," she said to him frantically, looking back over her shoulder reluctantly. And sure enough the woman had turned the corner and was on their heels, almost floating. "Dad, she's _glowing_-"

"Never mind that," he cut her off quickly and they burst through the doorway, the Doctor slamming the door shut behind them. Releasing his daughter's hand, he dug through his pocket and pulled forth his sonic screwdriver, tossing it to her as he made for the controls. "Secure that door!" He shouted back to her and he turned to find himself heading up the ramp toward the console, the blue core pale and dim. The TARDIS had been weakened, stripped of pieces of her heart and he could sense her straining. He almost felt the sting of tears then as he heard the phone box's mental voice from far off but he quickly blinked them away a moment later. No time for that. "It's not going to stop her," he called back to his daughter. "But it will give me enough time to-" And he broke off, unwilling to say what he was about to do. Yanking the monitor to face him as he reached the console, he immediately began inputting coordinates. "Please. Please, please, please."

Hearing the quiet buzz of the screwdriver in the background, he tapped furiously at the keyboard, scanning the data that came up at his command. The phone box was sluggish. She had absorbed the majority of the TARDIS heart, leaving very little with which to operate the TARDIS itself. It was expected.

No. That was wrong, he reflected suddenly. And it took all of his reserve not to stumble at the console then and there in misery. He hadn't expected it. Not at all. Even after everything, everything he had been told and everything that had happened before him, he hadn't expected _this._

"Got it!" his daughter cried to him triumphantly, snapping him back to attention. And as he made himself move once more, the core of the TARDIS began to sound, the blue central column beginning to lift and fall slowly. His daughter managed a step when a sharp crack sounded from the door leading back to the corridors, sparks exploding and fizzing.

_"Jenny!"_ he shouted, whirling toward her.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" she called to him, staggering away and stopping to stare at the door. "What is she…is she trying to break through the door?" she questioned her father in disbelief.

"Wait by the front door!" he ordered her, motioning toward the front doors of the TARDIS as he spun back around to the console.

She ignored his command, climbing up beside him at the controls. "I'm not leaving you," she repeated once more, her face firm. "Do you hear me? I'm not _leaving_ you! Don't ask me to-"

"I'm not asking, Jenny," he retorted just as stiffly. "Humor your father and _stand by that door!"_

She stared at him for a long moment as he flicked knobs and toggled switches, silent. And he stopped when he realized she wasn't moving, hunching over the console to support himself and then look at her pointedly. Staring at him, searching his eyes, she opened her mouth to say something. And a moment later, she merely shut it, her shoulders slumping wearily. Turning, she took a step toward the TARDIS doors.

Taking hold of her suddenly, he pulled her back into a tight embrace, long arms wrapping around her and holding her to him. She immediately hugged him in return, burying her face into his chest and holding on to him for dear life.

"I'll give you as much time as I can," he said to her quietly as another burst sounded from the sealed door behind them.

"I don't think I can do this alone," she whispered, her words muffled against his chest.

"Yes, you can," he stated firmly and he pulled back enough to lift both hands to her face, grasping her between his palms and seeing himself in her. There was so very little resemblance between them but in that moment, she was all of him in a small, trembling package. "You know what to do. She'll follow after you once she's done with me. But she won't chance an encounter with herself. The same way I can't chance an encounter with myself. And I can't send you back any earlier than I am now, not without crossing timelines and mucking _everything_ up."

She gazed at her father, at his wild hair and wilder expressions. "It wasn't for nothing," she said to him thickly, needing him to _know_. "Everyone who went before me…it wasn't for nothing, what they did."

He shook his head at that, his face tight and gaunt. "I never believed it was. Not for one moment."

The TARDIS suddenly knocked roughly, throwing them off balance and he looked back at the console just as a third bang came from the door behind them. "We're here. Get to that door. Now! Quickly!" he ordered and he shoved her away from him, turning his full attention to the console.

She did so, whirling and scrambling around the console and down the ramp just as the back door burst open, pieces of metal flying and screeching as it was bent and warped by a powerful golden light. The TARDIS let loose a high-pitched shriek at the destruction, red light suddenly flaring from the core, the cloister bell chiming in imminent danger.

_"Dad!"_ Jenny screamed as the Doctor whirled to face the woman who floated into the console room of the TARDIS.

Turning to look back toward her he gestured violently. "Go!"

And as she turned to open the doors the golden woman lifted her hand, waving it blindly at the TARDIS doors.

_"No!"_ the Doctor shouted and he darted in front of her as gold light snaked up the doors of the TARDIS and flashed.

Eyes widening, Jenny threw herself at the doors and yanked frantically as they held, as the golden light flared powerfully against her.

_"After everything, I will create myself still,"_ the woman whispered to him, her glowing eyes almost saddened by the sight of the Doctor standing before her.

He held stiffly for a moment, settling himself and closing his eyes.

_Fight her. You are mine. You belong to __**me.**_

As the TARDIS whimpered softly in agreement he turned to look over his shoulder at his daughter, slowly lifting his hand. And he snapped his fingers.

The doors of the TARDIS burst open outward, golden light sparking, hinges snapping almost painfully by the mere sound of them. Jenny found herself looking out into daylight, staggering as she realized the TARDIS hovered over solid ground at an angle. With a cry, losing her balance, she fell out through the doors, crashing roughly to hard cement. Caught off guard, she whirled onto her rear and sat up, looking up into the core of the TARDIS, the time machine hovering before her. And she was witness to it, just as her father snapped his fingers once more, turning his attention to the woman before him. She caught sight of the woman as she waved a hand at the TARDIS console, as red light poured from the core like blood from a gash, gnarled wiring and coral springing from the console itself.

With a hard slam the doors shut once more on its broken hinges, blocking her view from her father and vanishing, leaving her in heaving silence in an alley in past London.

* * *

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor stared as the golden woman faced him once more, her expression explaining it all to him. She was going to go after Jenny after she was done with him, it was just a matter of time. All he'd done was delay her. Lifting his head, he hesitated, his hearts pounding as he realized what was happening. He felt fear spike as the TARDIS began to shift around him in blood-red light, as he lost her ethereal voice in his head.

_"Everything dies,"_ the woman said to him faintly, her voice ghostly. And he did not mistake the sadness that was at the very core of her eyes.

Turning back to the woman before him, the Doctor finally agreed with her. "Yes," he uttered wearily, gazing into those eyes that betrayed summer.

* * *

**Next Chapter - Chapter Thirty-Four: The Last Visit:**

The TARDIS had vanished almost the same moment it had deposited her out on the sidewalk. Wherever her father had gone, he was taking the fight away from London and away from that current time. But somewhere in this city Rose Tyler and the past Doctor were together, oblivious to everything that was happening further down their timeline.


	35. The Last Visit

**A/N: **It's a snow day! Hence the really early update this morning. I've been up since 5am. Yay! Here's the next chapter, I know I left you guys on a cliffy last one. Thanks for the reviews and for making this a fave or for putting on alert, you guys are SO awesome! Even you anonymous reviewers, you know who you are! I appreciate it!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four – The Last Visit:**

She had no idea where she was going and not a very good idea of where she currently was. All she knew was that she was in London, in the immediate past. Looking for one Rose Tyler before she swallowed the heart of the TARDIS once more. Looking about she turned in a full circle, her hearts beating painfully in her chest, her breathing raspy. "Where…am I?" she asked the air frantically.

The TARDIS had vanished almost the same moment it had deposited her out on the sidewalk. Wherever her father had gone, he was taking the fight away from London and away from that current time. But somewhere in this city Rose Tyler and the past Doctor were together, oblivious to everything that was happening further down their timeline.

She would have to leave her message with Rose, mind-locked, if she couldn't find her father. He had always been against anyone going back and appearing to his past self as it was.

_"Too many things can go wrong and I think I know everything already anyway."_

Her best bet was to appear to Rose Tyler's past self. At least in her presence the Bad Wolf would not dare approach them for fear of rewriting her own past. To appear to her father with the information was not a guarantee of protection. If the Bad Wolf could do away with the future Doctor, there was an equally good chance if not a better one that she could do away with the past Doctor just to stop their attempts once and for all.

But not her own past self. Not if she wanted to chance writing herself out of existence.

She searched the area, racing down the small alleyway she'd been dropped into. Upon reaching the street she found that she recognized the area. She was not too far from the Powell Estates. It seemed so different in this current time. Several shops hadn't been constructed, several homes hadn't been torn down and others hadn't been built yet. But she knew the area enough.

Having become acquainted with Rose Tyler when she'd still had her own mind, she found herself missing her, the way she had known her. As bright as day, her smile mischievous. A perfect match for her father's own impish nature. Almost like a perfect little family once she had found her way back to her father. Coming down the small path lining the Powell Estate she saw what she had hoped to find once having been kicked out of her father's TARDIS.

The blue phone box waited silently in a corner of the path, up against a brick wall and tucked away in a corner. She slowly came down the alleyway, hesitant. This wasn't her father's TARDIS. She had felt the sluggishness of her father's TARDIS, how tired she had seemed in the last days before the Bad Wolf had reemerged. She felt a certain weariness emanating from this TARDIS as well but easily recognized it as a strain from storing energy, not from having it siphoned away.

As she came closer the door opened and Rose Tyler emerged, in the middle of a full laugh, her head thrown back. Behind her, slipping on his coat, her father came out also, nodding at her as if he had fed her a story that he believed was very true no matter how silly it seemed.

"No way!" Rose's voice rang down the alley.

"Why would I lie to you?" the Doctor demanded as he locked up the TARDIS behind himself.

Shaking her head, refusing to believe, Rose glanced down the alleyway, catching sight of her coming down toward them slowly and she did a double take but turned her attention away once she realized she did not recognize her. Beside her, the Doctor finished fiddling with the door and then turned toward Rose, holding out his hand to her with a smile.

She felt her heart break at the gesture. Even more so as Rose looked at his hand, made a small comment and then slipped her hand into his.

_Bad Wolf._

Coming down the alleyway, looking at them, Jenny averted her gaze as they came close and then passed by her, the Doctor with a beaming smile and a cheerful, "Good morning!"

"G-good morning," Jenny stuttered in surprise, glancing at them and then they were past her, the Doctor leaning into Rose and whispering against her ear comfortably. Tenderly. She followed them with her eyes, pausing in mid-step to look over her shoulder. The Bad Wolf and the Oncoming Storm. And yet, staring after them, there were no titles there. Merely a young woman and a young-looking man, holding hands, holding onto each other for all they were worth. A golden sun and moonbeams on the surface of this spinning planet. She watched as they floated down the alleyway, rounding the corner and disappearing.

Stopping and looking off the way they had gone, she had no idea how she was going to get Rose Tyler alone long enough to plant the message and lock it for the Doctor. If she followed them, wherever it was they were heading, perhaps she could spy on them a bit, see if her father left Rose's side long enough for her to have a word with her. But even in her current time her father had never let Rose out of his sight once they'd emerged from the TARDIS. Only in London, really. Perhaps they had separate plans today. Could she dare to hope?

"I'll just be a minute!" Rose's voice floated back down the alley and a moment later she came racing back around, looking flustered and calling over her shoulder. "Go on ahead, I'll catch you up!"

"They're just chips-" came the Doctor's voice in exasperation from behind that corner and Jenny already saw the look he must have had on his face to accompany the tone.

"Order for me! I'll be there in a bit!" Rose threw back as she ran.

Stepping back a bit, her hearts beginning to pound, Jenny glanced quickly toward the TARDIS and hesitated a small moment before darting for it and winding around it to hide.

Coming from around the front she heard Rose slide to a stop outside the phone box, insert the key and quickly let herself in.

Placing her ear to the blue wood of the box, Jenny strained to hear but as was with her own TARDIS there was no sound from it. Bigger on the inside but the wood muffled all sound. Sliding back around to the front, keeping to the sides, Jenny circled about and caught sight of the door of the TARDIS. Ajar with small sounds coming from inside. Glancing back toward the mouth of the alleyway, aware that her father had not followed after Rose, Jenny quickly slipped in through the front door and shut it loudly behind her.

Rose Tyler snapped up straight from the jump seat, a sweater in her hand.

Jenny returned her wordless stare, just as silent.

"I'm sorry…" Rose said to her slowly, swallowing faintly and recognizing her as the girl they has passed earlier by the expression that flashed across her face. "You can't be…in here." She slowly lowered the sweater back down to the jump seat, her gaze darting from the stranger in the TARDIS to the interior of the phone box itself uneasily. Jenny already knew what she was thinking.

"I just need to talk to you," Jenny said to her quickly. "I know all about the TARDIS, don't worry about that. Please. I just need to pass along a message."

Rose stared at her, falling into silence. Then suddenly understanding, she began to wave her hands at her. "No. No, come on, no more. I can't…" She shook her head, her brows turning up in misery. "I can't keep _seeing_ you lot! You can't just…_come_ to me and expect me to be able to fix anything! I haven't done anything _wrong!"_

"Not yet," Jenny agreed. "But actually, it's all started already, Rose Tyler."

Rose studied her, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as her hands dropped back at her sides once more.

Jenny came forward a step and then another, climbing up the ramp gingerly. "You don't know me. And I firmly believe that you were never meant to know me. Which is ok," she explained quickly before she paused thoughtfully. "Well," she amended, "It makes me a bit sad because I liked you. I really did. And you made him so happy."

Rose took a step back as Jenny reached the console, bumping into the jump seat. "Don't take another step, I'm warning you, yeah?" she ordered, holding a hand out at her. "I know how to use…this." And she motioned vaguely to the console.

Jenny smiled at her and at her attempt to scare her. "I know how to use it, too," she let her know, leaning slightly to the TARDIS console. She lifted a hand and allowed it to drift across the face of the controls and the TARDIS seemed to hum for a moment. "She's a bit temperamental but you know that already. And she loves you. The way I do. The way _we_ do."

Rose fell silent, her frame stiff against the jump seat.

"It wasn't my intention to frighten you, it really wasn't. And I'm sorry," Jenny said to her, her light eyes sorrowful. "I'm so sorry."

At her words, Rose's eyes widened, her head tilting a bit as she searched the girl's face. Perhaps searching for someone familiar in her features.

"And I'm very sorry for this, too," Jenny said to her quietly. And without another word but with reflexes faster than a striking snake she lunged toward Rose and took hold of her.

Staggering at the sudden movement, a gasp of surprise broke from Rose as she stumbled to her knees. But it didn't stop her from letting Jenny have it. "Get…_off me!"_ She ordered her, her hands instantly flailing, fists glancing off Jenny's arms and shoulders as she aimed wildly.

"I need you to give him-" Jenny tried to bite out and she flinched as a wayward fist caught her in the jaw and staggered her momentarily. Shaking her head, refusing to let go of Rose, she attempted once more. "You have to give him a message for me!"

With an angry shriek, Rose took hold of one of her arms, attempting to shove her away. "Then why can't you just _tell_ me!" she demanded furiously, her grip on Jenny's arm tightening and twisting.

"Because you can't know what it is-" Jenny hissed and with a sudden inhuman surge of strength she broke Rose's grip on her arm and slapped her fingers down across Rose's face, instantly initiating a mental link. Rose staggered backward under the sudden attack, inhaling deeply in terror at the assault.

_"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

"Stop saying that!" Rose cried aloud, the same words ringing inside mentally and deafening Jenny. "Stop…whatever you're _doing!"_

_"I can't. I can't stop this now. He needs to know. Only him."_

She projected several images at Rose at once, whispering and shouting at the same time in Rose's head, not making a bit of sense but shoving forcefully, feeding her information that she couldn't comprehend. Rose stared at the images with her mental eye but could not decipher a single one, her head overwhelmed by the sheer velocity that the visions sped by her.

And the sounds, the whispers of, _"Bad Wolf…"_ The cries, the Doctor's frantic voice hidden below all the screams, and the sounds of many people shouting at once, all of it being crammed into her head. She heaved physically, her eyes closing instinctively under the girl's hands, her lips parted in terror. She could hear the Doctor so far away, in the back of her head almost. And she recognized different voices as well. Martha Jones' voice, speaking rapidly, screaming. Donna Noble's quick chatter, her snarky attitude and the horror in her once bored tone. Jack Harkness' voice, desperate and disbelieving and then the blond girl's own sharp cries as golden light encompassed the entire vision.

_"Everyone who went before me…it wasn't for nothing, what they did."_

That was the girl's voice in the end. Rose reached for it mentally, even physically, her hand going so far as to lift against her own accord and search blindly. And just like that darkness suddenly came down before her eyes with a defining slam and all the images and voices vanished.

With another deep gasp, Rose snapped out of the mental connection, her eyes coming open and she breathed in air as if she had been suspended underwater. Before her, Jenny released her, her eyes losing focus for a moment. Then rearing back, the girl staggered on unsteady legs before crashing to the floor of the TARDIS loudly.

"W-what…" Rose heaved, her entire frame trembling. She blinked, swallowing, and dropped her eyes to search her hands and body. "_What the_ _hell did you do to me!"_ she shouted fearfully.

The connection had drained her, Jenny realized. She wasn't used to doing it, wasn't used to maintaining it for as long as she had. Her father had taught her quick jaunts, a mental caress here and there, for anything more had been too much of a strain on her. And the mind lock at the end had done her in. Spinning, she rose unsteadily to her feet and tripped against the console, using it to hold herself up as she breathed deeply. She had to get a hold of herself. She'd done what she had come to do and hoped it was enough. Now she just had to wait.

Furiously, with anger coming off her in waves strong enough to knock Jenny back down had they been physical, Rose lunged to her feet, her face black with rage. "How _dare_ you?" she shouted at Jenny, pointing a wavering finger at her. "You had no right to…to just…enter my _mind_ like that!" she yelled at her back. "No right!"

"I'm trying to save us," Jenny said to her wearily, struggling to lift herself from the console. Her legs wobbled like jelly and even her arms felt limp.

"Oh, you're definitely going to have to start saving _someone,"_ Rose growled as she came up on the girl. "Who raised you? What kind of person are you to think that-" And she came to a stop, staring at the blond girl for a moment. "How…how did you even do that? You're not human, are you? Are you a Time Lord? Or Time…Lady? Like _him?"_

Jenny snapped her head up to look at her darkly, blond hair flying over her shoulder with the gesture. "If I did it right, you'll probably never know who I am," she said to her flatly. And without another word she released the console, falling away from it wearily. Regaining her balance she waited a long moment to make sure she had enough strength to hold herself up before staggering toward the ramp and then climbing down haltingly, her frame trembling.

"You…you can't just _leave!"_ Rose cried after her in disbelief. "I can't believe people these days! You can't just…just-"

In silence, Jenny went to the door of the TARDIS and let herself out into the sunlight.

"Wait!" Rose was left calling after her.

* * *

Coming out of the TARDIS and closing the doors behind herself, Jenny stumbled down the alleyway, exhausted. Such a small distance but it seemed to take her so long to cross it. And there was nothing left now. Her own TARDIS would not be coming back for her. And if she was still walking around now, in this daylight, after doing what she had been told to do, she could only hope the Bad Wolf entity had been averted. Or she would have to wait and see if the Bad Wolf would come in search of her.

Rounding the corner she caught sight of the lanky figure leaning against the wall silently, clothed in the familiar long coat.

"Hello again," the Doctor said to her with another wide smile as he lifted his head to her and recognized her.

She gazed at him, coming to a heavy stop. "Hi," she replied sadly.

He stared at her, his cheer dying away. "Are you all right there?" He asked her in a voice laced with gentlemanly concern.

And she suddenly wanted her own father. She wanted him almost desperately then, tears rising in her eyes, prickling painfully. She lifted a hand toward him, having taken a single step when she abruptly felt the sudden tingling along the back of her neck, her stomach growing cold. Lifting her eyes away from her father, her face paling, she looked about wearily. She knew this feeling, the golden icy heat that she had always felt when the Bad Wolf had shown herself. And if the Bad Wolf was here, in this place and this time, everything she had done had been for nothing. She gazed at the Doctor, at her father, and said softly, "I left her a message back there. Mind-locked."

The Doctor stared at her, lips parted. And for a full moment he didn't seem to understand her words, merely gazing at her. Then, finally realizing, a sudden darkness filled his face as he came to appreciate them. "Did you hurt her?" he asked her softly, coldly, as he rose off the wall and stood to his full height.

Jenny shook her head quickly, realizing that when he stood tall and rigid, he seemed a maleficent dark creature. Every bit the Oncoming Storm he had been reverently named by the Daleks, by any race he had come across and brought his wrath down upon. This was the being that all his enemies had ever come to fear, this tall, dark man with the eternally beautiful face and the scorched shadow over the opponents he'd defeated in Earth's name. And he had shown himself to her because she had suddenly become a threat to a mere human girl.

A girl he loved, she finally allowed herself to believe.

"The message is for you. She can't know what the message is and she can't ever know what she will become," she said to him, needing to explain it to him. And needing him to know that she was not the threat. That she was someone in passing, someone who might very well pass right out of their reality if she was found. She was nothing at this point. Nothing but a lost blond girl in an alley with the very genetic material of a Gallifreyan but none of the resolve. If she was found now, there was nothing she would be able to do to fight the might of the Bad Wolf. She would merely cease to exist.

Coming out into the mouth of the alleyway the Doctor glared at her and then quickly looked toward the TARDIS, his hands clenching into fists. And upon doing so he hid his hands in the pockets of his coat. "You're not the first to come to see her," he stated flatly to her, his dark eyes returning to study her intently, scrutinizing her. Sizing her up, even. Perhaps trying to determine what kind of threat she posed.

She shook her head, her shoulders now limp in defeat. "No."

"There's something wrong," he continued on, his jaw clenching as he advanced one more step and then came to a stop before her, looming over her with his indefinable height. He had never used his height on her. On their enemies, yes, but never on her. "With the timeline. With what I did. Since bringing her back." And his voice fell away, his face contorting. In a quiet, pained voice, his shoulders stiffening, he whispered, "It was wrong to bring her back."

Jenny gazed at him, feeling empty inside. There was more wrong here than right but she couldn't even find it in herself to blame him for any of it. "I left the message in her head. Only for you. But I have to go now."

The Doctor shook his head at her, not understanding. "I need more than that. I need you to explain. You can't keep going to her. You can't." And suddenly, the Oncoming Storm was reduced to a mere man, his face sorrowful. "Why not me? Why can't you come to me instead? Why can't you leave her alone?"

"I'm coming to you now," Jenny said to him, her eyes lifted to his. "And now I have to go. She's coming for me, I feel her all around, in the _air_. Can't you feel her?" she asked him, staring. She didn't understand how he _couldn't_ feel the presence of the Bad Wolf. Shaking away the prickling on her skin, she said, "Rose Tyler can't know what I will show you, what you will see behind the lock. Please."

The Doctor hesitated at her words, his face uncertain. But then, even as he held silent, she reached out to him. Wrapping a hand around his wrist gently, tenderly, she drew his fist from his coat pocket and found it limp.

"I love you," she whispered, her face lifted to his, her hearts breaking. And without another word, with the Doctor turning to look after her with a stunned stare, she wound around him, her hand leaving his wrist, and she began to run. Such simple words to say, words her father had never been able to say to anyone. Neither her nor Rose Tyler, no matter how much he had meant them. She had learned those words from the woman that was to become the Bad Wolf, when her heart had still been her own, her love resonating throughout the TARDIS. Rose Tyler had explained love to her, had giggled like a schoolgirl when she had told her of how she had felt toward her father, the one called The Doctor. Rose had explained to her gently that the feeling that rose from embers in her chest, that feeling was love. That overpowering, incandescent warmth. It was different, the types of love humans felt. There was the love of family, the love that Jenny felt for her father. He was her mentor, the one who would guard her and protect her, who would teach her the history of the Time Lords, with his quirky smile and silly jokes. That was the love between a father and a daughter.

And then there was the love between the two halves of one soul. The love of a man for his wife or vice versa. That was the love Rose Tyler felt for her father. She was his, unconditionally. And he was hers even if he never proclaimed it aloud. But upon explanation Jenny had seen that love, had been witness to it several times, moments when she had wandered throughout the TARDIS and had stumbled across the two of them without their knowledge. In silence, in an embrace, draped across one another, soft words, tinkling laughter. Such a powerful love that humans felt, that Rose had taught her and had attempted to explain more than once to the Doctor although he had shrugged away her attempts. Even as he had mirrored them for her.

How beautiful to be in love. To be loved.

Shaking herself from the memories, from all she had left behind, she ran, her breath coming in gasps. The Bad Wolf was closing in, she felt her in the air, in the way it sparked with some sort of electrical charge. And the sparking was golden in color in her head. The gold of Rose's love. Of Rose's confusion. That's what the Bad Wolf had been in the end. Rose's love, powerful, coupled with her confusion because she had been a mere human. No human could ever control the power of the time vortex, could even hope to ever understand it.

She wished for so much more then, for things to somehow have come about differently. Perhaps in some other timeline she would meet her father again, having been created from him. And maybe in that timeline she was meant to stay with him, lost once then found. And maybe in that other timeline she was destined to meet Rose Tyler once more. Rose Tyler without the entity that was the Bad Wolf. Only one simple blond woman named Rose who would make her father content. And maybe there was another timeline in which Martha Jones had traveled with her father and had survived, had never encountered the Bad Wolf, had left her father when the time had been right and had fallen in love with another, a human. A timeline where Donna Noble had journeyed with her father, had been given a reason to be a better person and for one shining moment had been the most important woman in the whole of creation. Another timeline where Jack Harkness had continued on as an immortal, had not been cut down by the Bad Wolf. Had still formed his own organization and had members he believed in, loved. A timeline where he and the Doctor, along with Rose and Martha and Donna, had all once worked together to stop the end of the world. How lovely it was to dream up another reality, an alternate universe. A fairytale. One that was infinitely happier than the one she currently lived.

A last shiver ran down her spine and as she turned a corner, slowing in her run, she slid to a stop before the golden woman that waited before her silently.

With a breath, her shoulders falling wearily, Jenny saw all those memories and possibilities, saw all the could-bes and the what-ifs. And she ushered them away into a corner of her mind, her body already defeated. Inhaling deeply, she whispered, "Ok. Ok. I'm ready."

And the Bad Wolf descended on her wordlessly.

* * *

When Rose emerged from the TARDIS, her sweater in hand, the Doctor waited for her still at the mouth of the alleyway, his face somber. She stared at him as she neared, silence between them, even as she paused before him. "I thought I told you to order me chips," she said to him easily. And she was betrayed by the trembling undercurrent in her tone. Still forcing a smile for him nonetheless she asked, "What's the matter?" upon seeing the expression on his face.

He returned the stare, his jaw clenched tightly. "Nothing. Everything fine by you?"

"Yeah," she nodded quickly. She motioned to the hood of her sweater. "Got what I needed. We can go if you want."

He continued to stare at her, wordlessly and she felt uncertainty set in at his silence. Did he know? Had he seen the blond girl? Was he waiting for her to let him in on what had happened? She had a message she had to give him even if she didn't have the first idea on how to pass it on to him.

But no, she said inwardly with a mental shake of the head. She had done nothing wrong. There was nothing wrong with her, nothing wrong with her being here now. The Doctor had come back for her. He had taken her away from that other world, had brought her back home. She was here. She needed to be here. And she had every right to be here. She could put up with all the strange visions she received, all the people who were being sent back. Even if it was the Doctor sending them all back from a bleak future, she could change things now, veer off that wrong path. She could do this. What was done in the past was done. There was no going back to that moment on the beach, no way to turn down his offer to return with him. Which meant she was supposed to be here.

"Rose?" he asked her quietly.

She snapped her eyes up to look at him. "Sorry?"

His face was weary, his jaw hard. But without another word he merely held out his hand to her. And she accepted it without another thought, entwining her fingers with his because it was right. He felt right. They felt right together. And if they felt so right, they couldn't be wrong.

The Doctor was silent for a long moment, his eyes caught by their joined fingers, his thumb running across her knuckles tenderly. "How about those chips?" he asked her quietly, a small cheerful smile finally breaking across his face.

She returned the smile, grasping his hand now with both of hers, her sweater tossed over her shoulder as she drew closer to him. "Sounds perfect right about now," she murmured, her tongue sneaking out to poke at her teeth, beaming.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty-Five: Awakening **

The tears rose, unbidden. Just like that, everything came down on her like a tidal wave, all the voices of the people who had come to see her, who had warned her. Something bad was coming. Something was almost here. And she was powerless to stop it, to stand up against it. The world was going to get swallowed up and there was nothing she could do. Nothing but-

_I am the Bad Wolf._


	36. Awakening

**A/N: **Almost didn't make it today, lol. This day is going to be busy, busy, busy at work but that's good because it means it should fly by quickly. Also have a three day weekend after today but have tons of errands tomorrow and then have a dinner to host Saturday and SuperBowl on Sunday. Make my weekend awesome and leave a review! Thanks to everyone who has and if I haven't responded to you in review I apologize! If you don't sign in I can't leave a reply but I will thank you for any words you guys leave me. They always make smile!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Awakening**

"So!" the Doctor began, a container of chips in his palm, his other hand poking at controls on the console. "I actually…have no plans for the day. Any place you want to go in particular? Anything you want?" He glanced toward Rose who had settled herself into the jump seat comfortably, her own small container of chips in her hand.

A chip sticking out of the corner of her mouth, she gave it a thought. "I want everything," she stated firmly, chewing thoughtfully. "Doctor, get me everything."

He snorted at her. "You can't have everything, Rose Tyler," he said to her with a tilt of his head. "I mean, honestly, where would you put it all? Hmm? Ever thought about that?"

And that was what she appreciated about him. The fact that sometimes he was just much too logical. "Not really," she said after a moment, sticking another chip into her mouth and crunching down on the middle of it. Chewing around it contentedly, she fished out another one, pausing. "No one in dire need of a rescuing?"

He stared at her intently, searching her face but she gave nothing away, seeming much too content to stare at her next chip. Coming back to the question at hand, the Doctor frowned a bit, eyes returning to scan the TARDIS monitor. "Nope. Looks like we have a day off." His grin came easily. Leaving the console, he plopped backward, joining her on the jump seat.

Glancing at him, she watched as he pulled a chip free and popped it into his mouth with a sigh. "Oh, don't tell me. Tired of running?" She smiled at him as he threw her a look of disbelief.

"Tired of running? Me? Hardly," he replied around the chip, shaking his head. "I am going to have to change out my trainers soon. I'm going through them quickly."

"Love the running, though."

"Love the running," he agreed. "I mean, really, what's life but a series of-"

The console suddenly lit up, readings shooting down the TARDIS monitor. Glancing over, the Doctor squinted at the screen and then quickly set down his chips on the seat to pull out his specs. Slipping them on, he rose back to his feet and bent toward the monitor, Rose looking past him to the screen.

"What is it?" she asked him, pulling another chip out.

Scanning the readings, the Doctor groaned under his breath. "Oh, are you serious?" he questioned the monitor in exasperation and Rose wondered for a moment if he was speaking to her. But then, as he tapped a few buttons, she understood he was speaking to the TARDIS. "As if one wasn't enough to have to deal with. What is it with Clom these days?"

Rose blinked. "Clom? The planet Clom?"

"Is there another?" the Doctor tossed her a weary look. "It would seem we have something to do after all."

Shoving the chip into her mouth, Rose got to her feet and came up beside him, pulling yet another chip out. "Well, it's not like Raxicoricofallipatorious would have been so much better," she sighed.

The Doctor straightened slightly to peer at her owlishly, a wide grin breaking over his face. "Oh, look at that, it just rolls off your tongue now! That's wonderful!"

She tossed him a small wry glare, turning her attention back to the screen once more. Still unable to decipher the readings on the monitor she instead leaned back on the console, tilting the chip in his direction slowly.

Already inputting coordinates and pulling levers, he fished the chip out of her hand with one fluid bite, chewing away as the TARDIS jolted.

"Where we off to then?" Rose asked, glancing over her shoulder to the controls he was setting beside her.

"New York!" he piped up, swallowing the remains of his chip.

She blinked. "New York? As in, North America? The United States?" she asked in confusion.

"The same," he nodded and he hit one last button, causing the TARDIS to bump once more. Standing back to his full height, he grinned at her. "Never been?"

She threw him a look. "You've never taken me," she stated.

He blinked at her answer. "Well, there _are_ planes…"

Bumping him at his cheek, she motioned. "So what does Clom have to do with New York? Is it Present New York? Not New, New, New, New…York? And can we see the Statue of Liberty? Oh, the skyline! I hear it's beautiful-"

"It would seem an Abzorbaloff is having a bit of a go there," he answered, scanning the readings as they continued to trail down the monitor.

Rose tilted her head. "And we're just going to go swanning off to New York?"

He blinked once more, turning to glance at her. "It's what we do," he said to her as if she didn't know. "Who else is going to take care of it? Torchwood?"

He held the blank expression on his face for as long as humanly possible which was why he almost made it. But then as humor slipped across Rose's face, he allowed his expression to crumble and threw his head back with a mirthless snort, looking at the monitor as the two of them erupted into raucous laughter.

"Torchwood. That's funny," Rose giggled.

A moment later the TARDIS shook once more before settling. Glancing over, Rose watched as the Doctor pulled on his long coat, another chip in her hand. "We're here already?" she questioned.

"Yep!" He was already heading toward the door.

"W-we're going now?" she demanded, hopping off the console. "But we haven't finished our chips! I mean, would it kill you to-"

But she was speaking to an empty console room as the Doctor had already disappeared out the doors. With a sigh, she set down her chips and quickly pulled on her red sweater, adjusting her hair before following after him.

* * *

The area, the streets, were much too recognizable. Rose hesitated momentarily before racing after the Doctor, searching the buildings and not understanding where she had seen them previously. Ahead of her the Doctor had pulled a small device from his pocket, one she was unfamiliar with, and he pointed it in all directions intently. Then, as the machine lit up he darted down the street and around a corner. Quickly following, she rounded the corner in time to see the Doctor dash down a quiet alleyway. "Where are you going?" she cried after him, still moving to catch up.

"Down this way!" he tossed back, and he reared up before a dingy metal door, aiming the device around. As he turned it back toward the door the machine let loose a high pitched whistle, lights flashing erratically on its face.

Catching up, Rose waited as the Doctor pulled free his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the metal door with one hand. After a concentrated moment the door unlocked and popped open. He quickly caught the door before it sealed with an elbow, pocketing the screwdriver and motioning to Rose with his head. "Come on!"

She was already following, taking hold of the door and allowing him to run in ahead of her. As they burst into the building they found themselves in a sterile metal kitchen, several cooks looking up at them as they came to a stop at their respective stations.

"Afternoon!" the Doctor cried brightly, the device in his hand still whistling. He glanced at Rose. "It is still afternoon, isn't it?"

"Sorry, we'll just…be on our way," Rose apologized to the kitchen staff and she nudged the Doctor, motioning to the device.

"Oh, but it smells lovely in here! What is that, Asian cuisine? Much better idea now than the chips-" And feeling Rose's stare on him he quickly nodded. "Right!" he said, returning to the matter at hand. He pointed the device, observing it as its whistle grew louder when he pointed it to their right. Instantly he moved in that direction, Rose sending out an uncomfortable smile to the staff as she followed.

Bursting out another door, they found themselves in a staircase and instantly took it, their steps clattering in the quiet hallways.

"Doctor," Rose said, calling to him.

He made a small sound that he heard her, still intent on the device in his hand. Reaching a landing, he glanced up momentarily, observing the skylight two floors up and he pointed the device in his hand toward the roof with a frown. As the beeps shrieked again, he rounded the landing, moving for the next staircase to continue heading up.

"Doctor, I know this place," she said, quickly following.

He frowned, taking the steps three at a time. "Do you? I thought you said you've never been to New York. Well, not present New York. We've been to New, New, New, New, New-"

"I haven't," she cut him off before he continued. "But this place is really familiar and I can't put my finger on it but-"

They reached the top landing within moments, the Doctor pointing the mechanical device in his hand at the door waiting for them at the top. Following the whistles, he burst out through the door and found himself on a roof. And just as he took that step out he suddenly darted away as a large, green-tinged hand swiped at him.

Rose gasped, coming out onto the roof and also recoiling at seeing the creature waiting for them.

"Abzorbaloff!" the Doctor cried and he quickly took hold of her wrist, yanking her to his side as the large, bulbous creature advanced on them.

"Limitation field!" Rose yelled as he suddenly began to pull her, dragging her across the roof and out of reach of the Abzorbaloff. "He doesn't have a cane!"

The Abzorbaloff was faster than she had previously realized and she cried out as she felt a swipe just barely miss her neck.

"They don't all use canes!" the Doctor shouted back over his shoulder.

She realized a second later that now they were the ones being chased as they raced across the roof to the other side. "Oh, this is so typical!"

"Fire escape!" the Doctor ordered over her impatience and he halted, pushing her on ahead, at the same time pocketing the device. Not one to immediately fight with him when their lives depended on it, Rose bowed her head and took to the metal stairs, instantly winding onto the top landing. And as she went to circle down to the landing directly below, she felt it once more. Much too familiar, this place. She had been here before, had stumbled down these metal stairs once. Behind her came the growl of the Abzorbaloff, the Doctor grunting, and she ducked her head down against her chest, racing blindly.

"Keep going!" the Doctor cried a step behind her, his steps loud across the metal.

Down on the landing below, she saw the open window, white curtains billowing out through it. And her heart suddenly raced, images flying through her head of another such window. She just couldn't place where she had seen it before. She only saw the window and a sudden stark image of blood. Blood on the floor, sunlight gleaming down on that blood, all around her. Blood and diamonds. But she couldn't remember why she associated that window with blood. Behind her she heard the distinct sound of the sonic screwdriver, the quiet whirr as it worked, and the Doctor's triumphant shout but she didn't bother looking back. She just had to stay a step ahead to give him space to catch up.

There was a loud clang from behind as she reached the window and she stretched to push aside the curtains that were floating out toward her, flinging herself through the window at the same time. Her hand found nothing but air where the curtain should have been and a moment later her body suddenly smashed into a solid pane of glass, breaking clear through it. A gasp strangled in her throat as she immediately impacted against a counter to her right just inside the window. Her body reflexively recoiled from it, legs tangling against the windowsill, her vision flaring white. Slipping clumsily, she crashed onto a hard floor and slid across broken glass before coming to a shuddering stop.

_"Rose!"_

For a moment she couldn't move, her figure frozen in stunned terror at finding herself on the floor surrounded by pieces of broken, jagged glass. The air seemed to shimmer, her red sweater swimming in and out of focus, the hood having fallen across her cheek. There was the vision, the one she had just seen in her head a moment before. Of sunlight on blood, of diamonds in the blood. Only it wasn't diamonds, it was glass. Shards of glass.

Then fire swept her body, from her twisted legs to her bruised ribs and straight through her hands as she dragged them toward her face. She immediately lost focus and through a blurred haze she saw the glint of glass and realized pieces of it were embedded in her palms, in the tender center of her hands. As she blinked rapidly, more blood welled up, a sudden gush of the red fluid streaming down to soil the floor from the gashes. The gasp slid from her at last, her chest beginning to heave and then freezing up to prepare herself against the waves of pure white agony.

Someone shifted at the window behind her, obstructing the sunlight, before dropping into the flat, trainers scraping over glass. Then the brown coat came into view beside her face as she instinctively curled into her chest soundlessly, her form beginning to tremble from the fire sweeping through her. Dropping to a knee beside her, glass crushing under him with the gesture, the Doctor came into view at last on her left as she turned onto her hip jerkily. He frantically put away his sonic screwdriver inside his coat pocket before reaching for her. And he hesitated, uncertain for a moment. "Blimey, Rose," he whispered faintly, his gaze falling to her face and then slipping to her hands. "Didn't you see the glass?"

"There was…" she uttered, her fingers clawing before her shakily as she convulsed from the pain. "There was no glass-"

He didn't reply for a moment, his hands finally taking hold of her wrists and wrestling them down to inspect them as she reflexively fought him. "I beg to differ," he replied but as a sob caught in her throat his face became hard as stone, his lips turned down slightly at the corners as he examined her.

She shook her head at him senselessly, trembling uncontrollably. "No-" she groaned and he held her wrists in a vice-like grip, studying her hands as blood ran fluidly from gashes and lacerations across her palms. Swallowing, attempting to shut out the pain, she tried to speak but it came out in a shriek. _"There was no glass!"_

The Doctor lifted his eyes to stare at her under a furrowed brow, his face almost angry though somewhere in the back of her head she understood it was not anger there but worry. And the slightest hint of fear. Then, jerking slightly, his gaze flew toward the left, catching on something.

Heaving, her hands twitching uncontrollably, she shifted clumsily along her side to look as well.

At the head of the kitchen she had crashed into, a little girl stood at the doorway with wide eyes, long blond hair streaming down her shoulders in beautiful waves.

The Doctor merely stared at the little girl for a silent moment, Rose's wrists caught in his grip.

But Rose recognized the little girl, her frame stiffening once more in terror, the blood running from her hands forgotten for an instant.

Feeling her becoming rigid, the Doctor looked down at her again with a frown before his attention flew back to the girl.

It was the girl from her dream. With the long blond hair and the red jumper. Little Red Riding Hood. Fearfully, her breath strangling in her throat, she merely stared at her for a long silent moment as images of her dream overtook her real vision, the girl's figure overlapped by her nightmare likeness in distorted, pounding flashes. Then, as the girl at the doorway became real once more, she hesitantly looked from her to the right, just the slightest bit toward the refrigerator beside the girl and up against the wall.

There were drawings all over the surface of the refrigerator, tacked up with small letter magnets. But beneath the outermost drawing she saw the child's sketch. The wolf behind a girl in red.

The tears rose, unbidden. Just like that, everything came down on her like a tidal wave, all the voices of the people who had come to see her, who had warned her. Something bad was coming. Something was almost here. And she was powerless to stop it, to stand up against it. The world was going to get swallowed up and there was nothing she could do. Nothing but-

_I am the Bad Wolf._

The Doctor was moving at her side, his grip on her wrists becoming even stronger as he began to drag her up. But she couldn't think of that, the pain receding to the back of her head as she realized it, as she began to understand.

_I am the Bad Wolf. I can be the Bad Wolf again. If I become that again, I can stop what's coming. I can stop it all._

"Rose, get up. Come on. I need to get you back to the TARDIS. I need to look at-"

A woman appeared behind the girl at the doorway of the kitchen, her hair wrapped up in a towel, clothed in a bath robe. "What is going _on_ in here-" she demanded and she came to a sudden stop at seeing the two strangers in her kitchen. Instinctively she reached out and took hold of the little girl, her daughter it seemed, and pulled her back against her frame, suddenly screaming. _"Who are you? What are you doing in my kitchen?"_

The Doctor heaved Rose to her feet in one forceful yank, catching her as she stumbled against him numbly. "So sorry, madam. Very, very sorry. We'll be out of your hair in just a moment, leave you to…the mess that we seem to have…did I mention how sorry I am?" And he wound one of Rose's arms around his neck rapidly, pulling her to his side before wrapping his other arm around her waist firmly. She merely allowed him, limp, her eyes blank as they held to the child's sketch on the refrigerator door.

Pushing the little girl into the hallway and out of sight the woman reached into the kitchen and took a broom from the wall into her hands frantically, her skin paling. "Get out!" she shrieked, holding the wood of the handle across her body protectively.

"Right now!" the Doctor agreed and as he darted toward the doorway the woman recoiled fearfully, trembling.

"Bad…Wolf," Rose whispered, her eyes falling away from the sketch as they passed it, her head bowing against the Doctor's wearily.

The Doctor's grip on her stiffened, his eyes shifting toward hers momentarily before brushing past the woman and out into the darkened hallway. "I'm sorry, your front door would be…"

The woman wordlessly motioned to the right with the broom, the little girl hiding directly behind her.

Glancing over in the direction she pointed, the Doctor nodded his thanks. "We'll be on our way then! Thanks very much! C'mon, Rose! Allons-y!" When the girl at his side didn't respond at all, he continued on in a chipper tone, trailing almost senselessly. "Lovely home you have, by the way. Marvelous décor-" And he turned toward the door, rambling off as he propped Rose against his side and undid the locks, pulling the door open.

"Just go!" the woman shouted angrily.

He slammed the door shut behind himself without another word.

* * *

**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty-Six: A Kiss Unnoticed**

What did he want her to say? That the worlds were converging once more around her? That she had seen an open window when in actuality, in this reality, that window had been closed? That she was slowly but surely losing her mind when it came to what was real and what was false? She clenched her eyes tighter, her breath catching slightly as she thought it, as she realized that things just weren't right anymore.

That they hadn't been right for a while now.


	37. A Kiss Unnoticed

**A/N: **Happy Thursday, folks! Busy week this time around, a bit stressful too. So if I haven't responded to your review yet, I will as soon as I finish posting this chapter! For that anonymous reviewer I have, you crack me UP! I can't respond to you through review replies but I very much appreciate every review you leave, no matter how long they get, lol! Thank you also to those readers who are setting the fic on alert or making it a favorite, I love it! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Also, since a few readers were asking, after this chapter there are only eight chapters left before it's complete! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Six – A Kiss Unnoticed:**

She came awake slowly, her eyes fluttering open.

To the side, gathering several bloodstained gauze pads and tissues across a familiar dresser, the Doctor worked meticulously and silently, a heavy drag to his shoulders.

She was in her bedroom on the TARDIS, in her bed, the blanket pulled up to her breast. Swallowing, her mouth dry and feeling cottony, she merely watched the Doctor for a long moment, his back to her as he tossed the pile of used items into a small wastebasket. His movements were fluid if a bit heavy-handed for the moment, darkness seeming to shadow him. He had removed his suit jacket, clothed in his white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his lean forearms. Before him there were several bottles on her dresser, antiseptic solutions and other items that were unfamiliar to her and unusual at the same time.

The mirror resting on her dresser reflected him and he seemed weary, his face drawn tiredly. A moment later his eyes darted upward, catching on her through the mirror and he merely gazed at her for a long moment, exhaling silently.

"Are you all right?" she asked him quietly, her voice rasping out hoarsely.

His eyes left her reflection, returning to the items on the dresser. "Am _I_ all right?" he stated softly, a small smile curling the corners of his lips. And he turned toward her finally, setting the wastebasket aside and then pulling up a chair beside her bed. Seating himself in it with a small sigh he leaned toward her, resting his elbows on his knees and merely staring at her intently. "I'm quite all right, thank you. Can't exactly say the same for you."

She blinked at him and realized suddenly that every single part of her seemed to hurt. She grimaced faintly, her eyes shifting sideways slightly as a light throbbing washed over her almost gently. "W-what happened?" she questioned, her lips parting in surprised pain.

Inhaling deeply, the Doctor propped his chin on his hand, tilting his head at her as she shifted the tiniest bit. "You took a bit of a tumble, Rose. Do you remember?" he asked her quietly, grimacing slightly.

She looked at him for a long moment, hesitant. "Wh…" she whispered and then broke off, blinking rapidly.

His face was sympathetic. "You went through a window. Clear through it. Like a champ, I'll give you that." And his smile wavered even as he attempted to force it.

"That was my dream," she said to him with a curt shake of her head.

His eyes dropped to her bed before him and then he reached out with long fingers, trailing them over her hand. And she didn't feel direct contact with his skin, a barrier between their touch. "No, Rose. It actually happened. You passed out coming into the TARDIS." And he dug his fingers under hers, across the mattress, lifting her hand for her to see.

Her hand was wrapped in slender bandages across the palm and wrist, leaving only her fingers free. Her eyes widened in shock as they trailed down her arm. Panic flashing in her gaze she quickly lifted her other hand to see it bandaged the same way, her limbs beginning to tremble. "W-well, how bad is it?" she asked him frantically.

Shushing her, his hand gently forcing hers back to the bed, he replied, "You're well on your way. I'll need you to take something to speed the healing process. Had you been awake I would have given it to you already. It needs to be ingested or administered intravenously. I reckon you've been stabbed enough for one day." He said it with a bit of cheek to the sentence but his face was unhappy still.

She merely stared at him as his eyes darted to her other hand before returning to the one resting on the bed before him. Then his gaze shifted back to hers and he merely looked at her wearily, sending her a small smile once more.

Breathing in deeply, the air catching halfway, she asked, "The Abzorbaloff?"

The Doctor tilted his head back with a nod. "Took care of it. He carried a small chain around his neck, a crystal. I managed to snap the chain and the crystal shattered when it fell. Just fell apart on the fire escape."

Rose wrinkled her nose in distaste as she swallowed thickly, curling her fingers uncomfortably. And she came to a dead stop, her eyes shifting downward slightly as she became aware of it. "Am…am I naked?"

Eyebrows practically flying clear off his face, the Doctor recoiled from her. Then, composing himself, he rose and darted toward her dresser, snatching up a small bottle of a suspicious green fluid. "I'll need you to take this now that you're awake-"

"Doctor, why am I naked?" she questioned him, stiff.

Winding around to the other side of her and coming to a slow stop, he waved the bottle at her and then uncapped it, motioning for her to sit up. She did so, one of her bandaged hands carefully holding the sheet to her breast. As she shifted she realized she was only partly nude, clothed in her jeans still. She looked up at him but he was quite intently avoiding her eyes, setting the cap aside. "I needed to see your ribs," he answered her shortly. And then, finally meeting her eyes once more, he held out the bottle to her. "I was a perfect gentleman. I promise."

Staring at him keenly, she suddenly pointed a finger at him awkwardly. "You snuck a peek."

He pulled the bottle back, throwing her a disbelieving look. "I did no such thing."

Observing him, flat out staring at him, she suddenly grinned incredulously. "Oh my God, you _did!"_ she cried and she burst out into giggles, throwing her head back in laughter.

With a distasteful curl to his lips, he waited as she continued to giggle, her shoulders shaking until she came to a sudden painful stop with a hiss. As she settled into silence, he sent her a knowing look and seated himself beside her on her mattress, the bed sinking slightly under his weight. "And how did that feel?" he inquired quietly, the bottle held in a limp hand on his lap.

She frowned at him. "You enjoy seeing me suffer."

Sighing wearily, he held out the bottle with the green fluid to her. "Not in the least. But someone is always suffering, Rose. You can't help them all," he stated as if the world's burdens had come to rest on his shoulders. He waited as she took the bottle from him and tossed her head back like a small child.

Hesitantly, she tasted the liquid. It smelled a bit and she wrinkled her nose, pausing in mid gulp but he eyed her firmly.

"All of it."

With an inward groan she stopped breathing and took the contents of the bottle in one solid swig, immediately passing the fluid from her mouth down her throat.

"Excellent," he said to her as she set down the empty bottle in her lap with an expression of exaggerated distaste. Swiping it out of her hand he capped it up and then tossed that into the wastebasket as well. "Give that about eight to twelve hours and it should fix you right up."

"Yes, _doctor_," she said to him immaturely. And she leaned her hand back behind her to rest on it. Immediately pain swept through it and she gasped, dragging it off the bed and against her chest, biting down.

He reached for her instantly, holding back as she nursed her palms to her breast. "You have to be careful, Rose. I just swabbed those. They need at least eight hours with the solution on them."

She grimaced. "I feel like an invalid," she groaned miserably.

The sympathy was back on his face. "I know. But we're not in a hurry to go anywhere so how about you give those a rest for a bit." And he motioned toward her side gingerly. "Mind if I take a look?"

She stared at him. "A look at what?"

He motioned toward her side once more with a slender finger, his face drawn. "Perfect gentleman, remember?" he reminded her gently. And without waiting for her to respond to that he stood up once more, fishing into his pocket and pulling out his specs before drawing close to her side. And as she continued to stare at him wordlessly he reached a hand out toward her elbow slowly.

Eyeing him suspiciously for a long moment, she hesitated. Then with a roll of her eyes, she pressed her bandaged hands to her chest and lifted her elbow, pursing her lips.

The Doctor fought the small smile that threatened to break over his face, slipping the specs on. Leaning over, he peered under her arm, his dark eyes examining the purple bruising across her pale skin. He had feared she'd cracked ribs when she had crashed into the counter just inside the window. But the worst of the damage had come from the broken glass once she had slid across it. He reached out, poking her ribs gently and she growled at him, her eyes sliding toward him once more.

Was she blushing? She dragged her gaze away from him once more, looking to the side uncomfortably. Under any other circumstance she would have loved the little tingles she received when he studied her intently the way he did then. When he looked at her that way she felt as if there was no one else. This moment, however, she felt the slightest bit awkward, especially in her state of undress.

_Why couldn't I at least keep my bloody bra on?_

He was frowning gently, sounding absentminded. "I had to remove all articles of clothing. I was uncertain whether your ribs needed to be bound." And he pushed against her side once more, a tender administration, trailing his fingers down each rib slowly, inspecting them.

She glanced at him briefly. "I didn't ask," she said to him, attempting to sound nonchalant.

His smile returned, awareness registering once more. "Yes, you did," he replied to that and his grin was impish, his dark eyes darting toward hers for a small moment. She held his gaze, silent, and the quiet was suddenly very loud, very poignant.

Then, stiffening slightly, he stood up straight once more, slipping his specs off and back into his pocket. "You can put your arm down. They seem fine. The solution will clear away the bruising in a few hours and then you'll be good as new." He nodded, bowing his head.

Staring at him quizzically, Rose lowered her arm at her side once more, holding the sheet to her chest with both bandaged hands.

Glancing over his shoulder, the Doctor moved toward her closet and reached in blindly, settling on a shirt and pulling it from a hanger. She waited, giving him a small smile in thanks, as he handed it to her and then promptly turned his back to allow her a small measure of privacy.

Tilting her head downward but very aware of his presence in the room, she allowed the sheet to fall as she gingerly lifted the shirt and dragged it down over her head. That was the hard part with her hands bound. Careful not to worry the muscles of her hands she took hold of the edges of the shirt with cautious fingers, pulling it down over her shoulders and then down her torso with a small exhalation.

Aware after a moment, the Doctor turned to face her quietly. Sending him a tired smile she shifted across the bed, scooting over a bit. Silently, the Doctor neared once more, hovering beside her thigh. Then, with a sigh of his own he seated himself at her side wearily, elbows resting in his lap.

Grimacing faintly, she leaned toward him and pressed her temple against the hard bone of his shoulder, her eyes closing just as tiredly. His scent drifted from his shirt, from his very skin, and she breathed it in, feeling it lift her chest and fill her completely. She would never forget the scent of him. Had they ever been separated on that beach for the rest of their lives, she would never have allowed this scent to escape her.

"Want to talk?" he asked her faintly, his voice a soft rumble against her ear.

With her eyes shut tightly she heard his tone tremble against her skin. She realized once more that if he did nothing more than speak to her for the little remaining time her human life afforded her, she would still be happy. She would be content with the sound of his voice, with the inflection of his tone as it mirrored his mood. She would be content with all of it. "About what?" she asked almost sleepily then, her hands resting palm up on her thigh and at her side on the mattress.

He hesitated. "About the window. About the glass. About-"

"It was an accident," she replied softly. "I thought the window was open. I was wrong."

He sat silently at her response. But the atmosphere was suddenly loaded with uncertainty as they merely sat together.

What did he want her to say? That the worlds were converging once more around her? That she had seen an open window when in actuality, in this reality, that window had been closed? That she was slowly but surely losing her mind when it came to what was real and what was false? She clenched her eyes tighter, her breath catching slightly as she thought it, as she realized that things just weren't right anymore.

That they hadn't been right for a while now.

Ever so softly, he whispered, "Tell me about the Bad Wolf."

This time her breath tangled and did not release. "W-what?"

Turning his head a bit, his jaw dragging across her hair, he said against her ear, "Tell me about the Bad Wolf. You mentioned it in the flat, after I got you to your feet." And his hand came down upon hers gently, his fingers trailing across her bandaged palm.

She swallowed. "It's nothing," she said.

The Doctor shifted at that, drawing back slightly. "Rose-"

"It's nothing," she said again, her other hand taking hold of his arm, slight pain streaking across her palm with the gesture. Biting down on a small aching breath, she loosened her grip and he returned to her, allowing her to rest against his shoulder once more.

For a long moment they sat silently, his breath floating across her temple, his skin releasing his scent to her. Then he murmured, "I'll wait for you. To tell me what is going on. But I can't wait forever." He paused. "Well, actually, I can but I'd rather not. I would like to fix whatever is going on. We don't need a repeat of this."

She flinched faintly as he ran his fingertips over her palms once more. But breathing steadily now, listening to the sound of his voice and the gentle thrum of it under her ear, she was suddenly tired.

_Bad Wolf._

"I'm sleepy," she said against his shirt, frowning delicately.

And when he responded he seemed so very far away then. "Ah yes. I forgot that little side effect."

"Side effect?"

He nodded against the crown of her head. "Yes. The medicine you took. _Not_ the non-drowsy formula." And his chuckle was reassuring as it rumbled against her, as it slowly began to lead her into darkness.

"You…dosed me?" she asked him wearily, not even having enough strength to get sharp with him.

But a moment later she didn't care for his answer as she drifted off against him, feeling for the smallest moment as his arms wound around her waist and held her frame to his comfortingly.

As her breathing evened out and her body fell limp in his embrace, the Doctor waited another few moments still, inhaling her scent. She was slender in his arms, much too thin. When had that happened? Perhaps in between all the running he just hadn't noticed it. But here, in the silence, with her scent trailing up to him, almost suffocating him, he felt her bones as if they jutted out at him. He bent his head against hers, her silken hair brushing his cheek, her chest rising and falling in sleep. And in that small, silent moment he understood once more how much he loved this human girl. How much she meant to him though he would never say it aloud. Even thinking it freely, something in him made him want to rear back and banish the words from his thoughts. But the mere weight of her in his arms, against his very body, made him want to hold her closer, perhaps hold her forever. The entire society of Time Lords would have looked down upon this type of behavior and yet he couldn't make himself care. Perhaps deep inside it had been instilled in him from youth but now, after everything that they had been through and everything she had helped him become, he couldn't understand how one wouldn't fall for Rose. Especially not him. He'd never stood a chance when his hearts had been broken and his eyes had been blue. Now that his eyes were brown, he felt the pain all the more. A different body but the same two hearts.

Turning his head into hers, he buried his face against her hair, feeling something in him so strong that it was almost alien. The feeling swelling inside him, he lifted his hand to her head, brushing away her hair from her cheek. And he gazed at her silently. How strange that one mortal girl had made him better, had made him _more _than he had been before. Blinking wearily, searching her face in sleep, he curled his fingers around her jaw and neck, shifting her just enough to allow him to press his lips to hers gently. She did not resist nor did she acknowledge the gesture, her breathing still even, her frame still limp. But it was all he was going to permit himself to do then. Something to take with him once he left this room and went back to being the last of his kind and having the Earth on his shoulders.

Pulling away from her mouth he let her head fall limply back to his shoulder, still feeling her lips on his as he tightened them into a firm line. In the middle of his thoughts, his face became stone as he shifted his gaze toward the sweater she had been wearing when she had gone through the window. He had tossed it into the wastebasket upon dragging her to her bedroom and he let his eyes trail across the smears of dried blood soiling it now. Even at the moment his stare detected glinting pieces of glass embedded in the thread.

He was fooling no one but himself if he acted like he didn't recognize the sweater he had disposed of. Rose had worn that same sweater when she had become the Bad Wolf once upon a time.

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**Next Chapter - ****Chapter Thirty-Seven: Burn Gold**

He smiled faintly at her gestures. "Would you allow me to have a look at your thoughts?"

She stared at him for a moment, stunned into silence at his words. Did he know? Her eyes trailing away for a moment at the implications, she gave it a second's thought. Of course he could look at her thoughts. She would offer them to him even if he hadn't wanted to see them. Everything she was, everything she thought, it would always be open to him. True, she hadn't told him about the visit from the blond girl but she wanted this, this intrusion. Only from him though. There would be no secrets with this. Nothing left to hide.

"Yes," she whispered.


	38. Burn Gold

**A/N: **So...you guys are like...frikkin amazing. I'm just saying. Lol! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for all the reviews, for the sweet words, for putting the fic on alert or favorite and just...thanks for reading! And to my anon reviewer, rofl! I wish I was as perky as you were because your review...cracked...me...up. Disney Love Story...I love it, hahahahahaha! But I better not start singing no Disney songs whenever I open up the fic to edit it! OMG, I'm going to start doing that. OMG. Hee!

Have fun, folks! Happy Thursday!

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**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Burn Gold**

When she entered the console room of the TARDIS that night, the air was thick with tension. She knew it had nothing to do with her. He was in one of his melancholic moods, dark and silent. She could feel it, hovering over him like a dark gray cloud. She paused at the entrance, resting her weary frame against the doorway. "You're thinking again."

He didn't respond for the moment but he did turn slightly in her direction, his face mysterious in the light of the TARDIS console. Blue and gold flashing across his ominous eyes as he turned them on to her. "Yes, I am," he replied quietly a moment later, gaze coasting over her lips then trailing down to her button shirt and jean skirt. They halted on her bandaged hands momentarily before flying to her face.

She flashed a slow, tired smile. "You'll get smoke coming from your ears. Set off the sprinklers like last time. That was…unexpected."

He smiled also, a lopsided one as he turned to face the console once more. "Did I never tell you I had those installed in the TARDIS? After the last time on the-"

"Second moon of Axis," she nodded as if she had heard the story many times. She lifted a hand and fiddled with the edges of the bandages absentmindedly. "You still blame me for that after all this time?"

"You _were_ to blame!"

Coming into the room slowly but laughing to herself, her limbs dragging, she floated up behind him like a ghost. She paused for a moment as she glanced down at the console to see what he was doing. After a pause though she merely leaned forward, her forehead resting into the dip between his shoulder blades. She could hear his hearts, feel his tension, his own weariness. It rivaled hers. "What are you thinking?" she asked into his suit, smelling him through it, his own natural scent. Alien and unearthly. Beautiful.

He lifted his head, the gesture bringing him to straighten his back a bit. "I'm thinking…Barcelona," he stated with a definitive nod.

She felt a frown cross her face slightly, her eyes closing as she rested her head against his back, her shoulders heavy. She was still so very tired. That fluid he had administered must have been very powerful. "Barcelona?" she questioned with a bemused smirk, his suit smooth under her skin.

He didn't reply for a long time, his breath rolling in and out, his head held up as his eyes darted across the ceiling of the console room. She smelled of gardenia, of honey. Of wild flowers waving in the twilight on a summer night. And of something drawing to an end. The mere thought caused the air to tangle in his chest painfully, his lips parting. "Do…do you remember? I've wanted to take you for so long." His voice was wistful, almost yearning, his hearts beating gently in time.

"We should go, then," she said with a small decisive nod, rubbing her forehead against his back. "We'll go and check out those dogs with no noses. I'm sure they're adorable."

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through him and into her, bringing her a small measure of comfort. "You've never seen them. If you had, you wouldn't say that." And he laughed once more but there was a certain catch in the laughter, a certain stiffness to his frame. He turned his head a bit, eyes flying over the console controls blindly.

She tilted her head, pressing her cheek to his back instead, her breathing a bit difficult. There was something in the air. Something she didn't understand but something that was familiar. As if he had decided something while she had been asleep. Shaking the feeling away she instead continued on casually, fighting down the feeling that something bad was coming. "You don't know me well enough," she disagreed. "There were times, when I wasn't running for my life, mind you, that I thought even the Daleks were cute little pepper shakers."

His laugh this time was genuine. And sorrowful. Plainly wounded. She grimaced against his back at the sound, feeling his pain wash over her as well but not understanding where it came from. Only that she could taste his distress almost on her tongue, taste his moonlight.

"So many places," he whispered then, his voice sounding far off. Distant. Soft light across an alien landscape. She saw many things when she heard his voice and when she breathed him in. She saw so much. "So many places."

She inhaled, remembering this talk, having heard it once before. "Then…why can't we go?"

His frame relaxed slowly, and she lifted her arms, wrapping them under his arms and around his torso, meeting close to his hearts. Merely hovering there, feeling the palpitations clear through his chest and being oddly comforted by the gentle thumps, the way a baby was surrounded by a mother's own heartbeat.

"Maybe you will," he murmured and his hands lifted, closing over hers gingerly, his head bowing against his chest. "And maybe I will. But not like this."

The last time he had said that to her, she had lost him. His last incarnation. Rugged, bitter and dark. And so lonely. He had regenerated into the man she now held in her arms. The one who covered up his pain with a smile that reminded her of those silver trees and that red, red sun he'd spoken to her about. What she had always pictured Gallifrey looked like after his description. Her arms tightened around him, bringing him to lift his head once more. "Don't go again," she pleaded quietly, her breath hitching at the thought that he would leave her once more. It was more than she could bear and she just couldn't do it again. "You're the same person, I know. But I…" she broke off, wishing to make more sense. "Just don't go again."

Pausing for a long moment, their breathing seeming to synchronize, he loosened her hands from his hearts and then cautiously turned, leaving her arms locked around him but now facing her in their circle. "I won't," he said to her quietly. And he gazed at her for a long moment, his eyes flying across her face. He registered the circles under her eyes, the weakness to her embrace. The summer dying in her eyes. Would autumn make a home there now? He lifted a hand and trailed fingers across her forehead, brushing aside blond bangs, gold spun into silk.

Daleks turning into golden ash behind the horizon in her eyes.

She lifted her head, closing those eerie eyes as his fingertips shadowed a path along her forehead, brushing her hairline almost faintly. In the back of her head she heard his voice, when it had still been alien to her, that new and egotistical tone.

_"Am I ginger?"_

A laughing smile crossed her face at the memory, her head lifted to his and she felt his breath brush her mouth as he bent a little bit, his other arm lifting to wind around her shoulder and back, resting there comfortably. "What was that smile there?" he asked her and she sensed the smile in his own voice as he asked her, sensed at times when he emerged from the black shell of his former incarnation to play with her for a bit.

"Just thinking," she replied softly, her eyes opening to gaze up at him. "Remembering a certain someone. Rude and not ginger." She sent him a sympathetic look, lower lip pouting faintly. "You were heartbroken."

His expression contorted, mouth curling as he pulled his head back a bit at her words. "Oh, I wouldn't say heartbroken. Strong word there. More like…disappointed. Disenchanted. _Embittered,"_ he growled in a husky tone, stressing the word with his lips comically and almost pouting back at her.

"Let down then," she supplied for him, a smile quirking the corner of her soft lips.

"To say the least." And he settled once more, his fingertips still brushing her hairline and temple gently. For a moment there had been a lightness in his face, in his voice. But now as he gazed at her, the heaviness seemed to return. He pulled his head back more, focused entirely on her dark roots, on his fingers trailing across her skin. And she could hear both his hearts, pressed to him as she was. Felt almost sandwiched between each pounding beat.

She opened her mouth to say something, to say anything to rid his face of that sadness.

But then he was speaking instead, his low voice reverberating through her as he said quietly, "You look a bit knackered. Why not take a nap?"

She tilted her head at him in an attempt to catch his gaze. "I'm fine."

And even as she looked at him, even as her eyes assured him that she was indeed fine, she could tell he didn't believe it. He remained wordless for another long moment, gaze seeming to be chained to her hairline, to his fingertips trailing back and forth along her temple as they played along the darkened roots. Hair almost the color of his, trailing out into a golden halo.

She allowed him, her stare roaming over his dark eyes as he seemed to zone out on her. It was adorable at times, the expressions that crossed his face. Very vivid expressions, full of hot emotion, almost boiling over with them. As if he couldn't do anything without being flamboyant. It was how this regeneration was. So full of life, so cheeky and loud. Filled to the brim with excitement, wonder, and at times rage and sorrow. Just so full. Dry heat blowing across a desert. Black shadows vanishing in moonlight. The frothy lip of the sea. He was all of it and more, all in one person.

"Enjoying the view?" he murmured to her with a small smile threatening the corners of his lips.

"Very much," she replied with a firm nod, feeling his fingers leave her head with the gesture.

This time the smile did come out, gentle and wistful. "So am I," he said. With an air of sadness about him, he wound his free hand around her neck and pulled her close to him with a deep breath, allowing her to turn her head to rest her cheek against his collar. Dropping his chin onto her head, he lifted his eyes, staring blankly out over the console room as the core pulsed behind him. She was quiet, the TARDIS. Waiting, it seemed.

This was what it felt like to love someone. To feel as if one's very core shook and swelled almost painfully. Rose closed her eyes heavily, her embrace tightening even as his did, as his scent seemed to overpower her. Everything about him made her feel more, more pain, more passion, somehow more alive. He made her feel it all with a simple hug. She had never felt like this with anyone else. And she knew, deep inside, she never would again.

"Have you seen anything else? Anyone else?" he asked her slowly through a haze, attempting nonchalance.

She stiffened for a small moment in his embrace, silent. Then, relaxing and forcing a light tone she shook her head as well as she could, trapped against him as she was. "Nope. All quiet on the forefront."

He nodded imperceptibly, blankly. "Good." Gently, pulling back a bit from her and her scent, he bowed his head as she raised her face to his, her eyes slightly wide as he hesitated in asking.

"What, Doctor?"

Eyes still averted, he took a moment, seeming to search for the proper words. "Would you…allow me?" he asked tentatively, his eyes caught on her lips and then further sliding down to her collar. As if somehow ashamed. It was a new expression, one she'd caught a few times but was still not used to when it flashed across his face.

"Allow you?" she asked him. "Allow you to do what?" And then, as if it was a given anyway she went on, "I mean, yes. It's a yes. Whatever it is. What am I agreeing to again?"

He smiled faintly at her gestures. "Would you allow me to have a look at your thoughts?"

She stared at him for a moment, stunned into silence at his words. Did he know? Had he stumbled across the mysterious blond girl? Had she given him a warning to the message hidden inside her mind? Her eyes trailing away for a moment at the implications, she gave it a second's thought. Of course he could look at her thoughts. She would offer them to him even if he hadn't wanted to see them. Everything she was, everything she thought, it would always be open to him. Especially now that it was in the open, the visits from Martha and Jack. From Donna Noble. True, she hadn't told him about the visit from the blond girl but she wanted this, this intrusion. Only from him though. There would be no secrets with this. Nothing left to hide.

"Yes," she whispered.

His eyes darted up to meet hers, looking from one dark eye to the other as she maintained her gaze. Nodding slightly at her he took a step back and then another, his arms slipping from around her to take hold of her hands, pulling on them gently. She followed, her gaze caught on his face even though he had allowed it to drop, looking behind himself until they reached the jump seat. Turning himself and her with the gesture, he coaxed her onto the seat which she took wordlessly, still looking at him. There was a strange feeling emanating from him but not a sinister one. As if she were about to become a science experiment, more like. But one that would be handled with all the care in the world. Sitting down slowly she continued to watch him, even as he seemed to avoid her gaze.

"Will it hurt?" she asked him to which he quickly looked at her.

"No, no. Not one bit," he reassured her. And he seated himself beside her, his hands still clutching hers, his eyes now trained on hers intently. "You can close your eyes if you want."

She gazed at him. "I'd rather keep them open, thanks," she replied to that. And she couldn't help thinking it was because she wanted to continue to meet his gaze. But the second she thought it, she instantly flamed, realizing that thinking thoughts like that would soon become easily decipherable to the Doctor. And as she thought more about it she felt the earlier blush fall away to paleness. He would see all of it. He would know all of it. How she felt, how _powerfully_ she felt, about him.

How she was in love with him.

Sensing her sudden uneasiness, she felt his hands on hers tighten, his face darkening with worry. "What? What is it?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she answered much too quickly.

He looked from one of her eyes to the other, a frown on his face. "You're lying. Tell me." And as if understanding, he leaned away from her slightly, the frown fading a bit. "We don't have to do this. I understand it's an enormous intrusion. If you feel uncomfortable-"

"No," she cut him off. And bringing her eyes down to their clasped hands, seeing the bandages circling her palms and wrists and still strengthening her grip on his, she shook her head with a subdued, "No."

He hesitated still, silently. But he felt the forcefulness of her grip, his eyes trained on hers even though she had them averted. Looking down at their clasped hands also, he merely held them for a long moment, his jaw clicking faintly.

"It's ok," she said to him quietly. "You know everything anyway. And if you don't then…you're about to." And he didn't mistake the small grimace that flashed across her face.

He looked at her for another moment before slowly loosening his grip on her hands. "Then I think we should do this another time, one that-"

"No," she repeated. And she tightened her grasp on his hands even as he loosened his grip more. "No. We're going to do this now. I want you to do this. You should know. You should _know-"_ And her sentence came from her powerfully, emotionally, the strain in her voice.

He stared at her, his frown slowly returning once more. "Know what?" he asked her quietly.

Hesitating, her eyes fixed on their hands, her head bowed, she exhaled breathlessly, "Everything."

His own breath held in confusion, his eyes focused so intently on her that he almost felt them waver slightly. He stood stock still for another moment before gently shaking off her hands from his and lifting them to her face. She followed his hands, raising her eyes with them, her lips parted gently. And when he spread his fingers and placed them lightly on either side of her face, she met his eyes, her features smooth of lines. As if waiting for him to discover everything she was.

"If there's anything you don't want me to see," he said to her quietly, gazing at her soothingly, "just turn it from me. Like a door. Just close the door on it and I won't see."

She maintained his eyes, her shoulders firm. "I want you to see," she stated. "All of it."

Rearing his head back a bit at her words, he forgot for a small moment what it was he was doing, instead holding her face gently between his hands. Slipping a bit, he dragged a thumb along the corner of her mouth, his eyes following its path. And even as he did so she was turning her face the slightest bit, her eyes falling closed, her parted lips brushing the pad of his thumb softly. He stared at the gesture, his own lips parting as he trailed his eyes over her mouth, and then sliding up the side of her face as she pressed her cheek into his palm.

"What have you been hiding from me?" he asked her softly, not unkindly. His breath caught as she raised her mouth yet again to his thumb, as she caught it between her lips gently.

She opened her eyes at his halting question. "Nothing anymore." And at her words he did not imagine the small scrape of her tongue against the pad of his thumb, his eyes trained on her lips and lost there.

Gazing at her, swallowing imperceptibly, he managed a small nod, his thumb dragging across her bottom lip before curving once more into place. Then he closed his own eyes, head bowing forward toward hers and she did the same. His breath hovered around her, mingling with her own and he felt her heat coming off in waves. His skin was always cold when he held her hands, when he embraced her. It was his own biology, his own genetic makeup and she had never complained of it but when she was close she seemed to burn. Burn with what seemed to be a golden light, sparking against his skin. All humans he had encountered had that heat emanating from them but she was different. Hot, scalding. Searing, almost. And golden. Her heat was always golden.

_Bad Wolf._

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**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty-Eight: Whispers**

"I'm still here," he said to her softly, his mouth close enough that his lips brushed hers involuntarily, her breath stolen from her by him. His fingers has slipped as he had searched her mind, as he had bathed in her thoughts and he held her now tightly, his palms pressed to her jaw, her face upturned to his. And she wanted. She needed. The same way he did, the way he needed her breath, her thoughts, her very self. Even as he mindlessly held himself before her, hovering in her golden thoughts and emotions, he realized that he did indeed need her. Physically, mentally. He needed all of her, every thought she had, every emotion she felt, he needed to feel it, needed to see with his own mental eyes. He needed to know the way humans saw, how they viewed love and anger, the world outside and inside. He needed to see it all.


	39. Whispers

**A/N: **Ok so before I have a riot on my hands, here's the chapter that I think you guys were waiting on, lol! Tons of inner thoughts and mindlinking going on so have fun! Thank you to all my readers, to the ones who put this as favorite or have me on author alert, you guys RAWK! Honestly! Thank you to Katherine, I couldn't get back to you because you didn't leave a signed review so I can only respond here. And to my anon reviewer, ummm I can't just STOP writing, silly! LOL! Ten will not be regenerating into Eleven in my fic so don't worry, Ten and Rose are my OTP as well! They were just reminiscing about the last time they'd had that conversation. And just so you know...I Can Show You the World? Yeah, that got stuck in my head the day you left your review and I needed to go home and find the song to listen to it so it would stop plaguing me, LOL! You messed me up! Hee!

Ok folks, enjoy the chapter. :)

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**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Whispers**

She gasped quietly as he connected with her, as his mind touched hers with the smallest airy tendrils of thought. And she was held in awe, her parted lips rounding into a soft 'o' as she felt him inside. He felt the same inside as he did out; ever present, ever emotional, not quite sitting still even mentally. But he was dark in her head, like a somber shadow beneath the jubilance that was the tenth incarnation of the Doctor. Beneath the manic energy, he was still the darkness of his past self.

"Don't be frightened," he soothed her and she shook her head slightly, not pulling out of his grasp. As he went to say it again he realized he didn't have to because he saw, in the light that was her mind, that she was not afraid. That she had never been afraid, either of him or around him. He gave her strength, he saw. With him by her side she was afraid of nothing. Invincible, even.

And she was in love with him.

He swallowed as he felt that emotion float and surround him, as he felt his mind become bathed in it. His eyes snapped open but he saw nothing except her golden mind, her aura hovering against her flushed skin, and she was resonating. The golden glow of her made a small thrum of sound, reverberating. Almost the way the TARDIS hummed. Just as comforting.

_I…didn't know…_

But deep inside, he suddenly realized that he _had_ known. He had always known because she had never been against letting him know. She had shown her love for him through everything she had ever done. Even this, allowing him to see everything that she was. This was love. Digging further, seeing more, he realized it was _painful_ for her, what she felt for him. This emotion, for her, was the last step, almost a violation. It was the only way she would ever have let anyone know anything she felt, if they were to know her mind. He knew her mind now the way he knew his own, inside and out, from the deepest recesses to the lightest corners. He knew everything she thought, everything she was. And she was in love with him in such a way that to think of him gone from her was physically painful.

"I'm still here," he said to her softly, his mouth close enough that his lips brushed hers involuntarily, her breath stolen from her by him. His fingers has slipped as he had searched her mind, as he had bathed in her thoughts and he held her now tightly, his palms pressed to her jaw, her face upturned to his. And she wanted. She needed. The same way he did, the way he needed her breath, her thoughts, her very self. He dragged her forward thoughtlessly and she went without a word, her bandaged hands gingerly coming down at her sides on the jump seat, following him wherever he needed her. Even as he mindlessly held himself before her, hovering in her golden thoughts and emotions, he realized that he did indeed need her. Physically, mentally. He needed all of her, every thought she had, every emotion she felt, he needed to feel it, needed to see with his own mental eyes. He needed to know the way humans saw, how they viewed love and anger, the world outside and inside. He needed to see it all.

"Doctor," she whispered as he pulled her ever closer, her frame now almost on top of him.

He didn't ignore her but he couldn't think to pay their physical form any sort of attention. He was hovering in her golden glow, bathed in her thoughts and her love and it was perfect. It was something he had never encountered of anyone and for it to be her was right. Just right. Her hands came down on either side of him, his breath coming rapidly now, her head turning in his grip to rest her forehead against his wordlessly.

"Doctor…I-"

He shushed her gently, needing to see more, feel more. Needing that golden glow, needing to hear her thoughts sound around him. Everything that she was, it was all open to him even as she cringed faintly at everything she had ever thought. All his words and everything she had ever thought inside even though she had answered politely, answered only after a moment's thought.

_"__I literally do not know who I am. It's all untested. Am I funny? Am I sarcastic? Sexy?"_

His voice, is that what he sounded like to her ears? Higher pitched than his previous incarnation, and a rambler. Seemingly thoughtless in everything he said. Yet she loved him

Her voice came mentally, that chiding little voice that was all her own, in response to the loud questions he had asked upon first stepping out of his TARDIS after his regeneration. All the images that came as she had answered him only in her mind, as she had allowed her eyes to sweep over his new form in appreciation, they were all present as well. The moment he had winked at her that day, that gesture from him had brought her up in embarrassment. But her response still echoed in their joined minds.

_"Yes."_

He'd been that and more.

As the memory from the Sycorax ship closed, his voice came once more . "_So, the year five billion, the sun expands, the earth gets roasted.__"_

_"That was our first date,"_ she had responded to him and her face had been jubilant in the breeze, blond hair flying all about wonderfully. She had been beautiful, so very alive and so very happy in his presence, happy to be a part of something more than she had ever thought herself capable of being.

_"__Ooh, slim...and a little bit foxy. You thought so too. I've been inside your head. You've been looking. You like it."_

Yes, she had liked it. She had loved it. She'd had moments of unadulterated human lust and moments of pure human love. Everything she was, all of it was just so _human, _in the moment, carefree. She laughed freely, smiled carelessly, and loved as if there would be no day to follow. She was Rose. His Rose.

_"Now, this is really seeing the future. You just leave us behind. Is that what you're gonna do to me?"_ Her voice came, pained. As if he had physically hurt her, caused her to bleed.

_"No. Not to you."_

He bent his head against hers, his brow furrowing as he frowned achingly. "Not to you," he whispered against her mouth, his shoulders stiffening even as she heaved against him, her form almost straddling him now. "Never."

_"What do I do? Do I stay with him?"_ Her mental voice, the voice of a memory, was ghostly, hovering between them, questioning.

Then Sarah Jane's voice, older, wiser, and just as pained. As if she also had once loved-

_"__Yes. Some things are worth getting your heart broken for."_

The human heart. How fragile. Yet he found himself understanding it and not quite believing that someone would place their heart so trustingly before him the way she would. She offered it to him without a word. She offered him her heart and everything she was without a glance back.

_"But you and I both know, don't we, Rose? The Doctor is worth the monsters._"

And Rose's voice in her head at Reinette's words. _"Yes…Yes."_ Even as he had left her behind, as he had crashed into Madame de Pompadour's world of French aristocracy and clockwork droids atop a horse he had aptly named Arthur. How thoughtless of him and how heartbroken he had left her.

_"__Hurry though, my love: my days grow shorter now, and I am so very weak. Godspeed, my lonely angel."_ Her words. Reinette's last words to him in a letter. But as he remembered them, as he thought them, it was Rose's tears he felt between his fingers as they slipped from her clenched eyes, her breath catching against his mouth as he held her. He realized then, rather suddenly, that Reinette had been correct. _"__A door once opened may be stepped through in either direction."_

"You…can't-" he uttered aloud helplessly, wishing to push her away but unwilling to break their link, unwilling to turn from her memories, her thoughts, her golden love for him. But with that panic came the realization of just how much _stronger_ than him Rose Tyler was. Waking the slightest bit from the glow, he understood that for once in his immeasurably long life, a human had shown herself to be so much more than a Time Lord. In showing all of herself and not demanding the same from him, she had shown herself to be better even if she didn't believe it of herself. Because he could never allow her to see everything he was. He could never give himself in that way.

His voice in her head now slowly became familiar to him, dragged him away from his own wretched thoughts. _"__I've trapped you here."_ Stranded beneath the black hole, without the TARDIS, in the presence of a creature that had claimed to be the devil. His voice, soft and broken, and her warmth as he had pulled her to him. His apology and his comfort to her for somehow ending up in yet another doomed scenario.

_"Yeah, well stuck with you, that's not so bad."_ Her voice came off nonchalantly and he had responded in surprise at her words. But now, seeing her words for what they were, she had been afraid, although at his side she had known that together they could face anything. With him by her side she was stronger, just so much stronger and that much more unafraid.

"_And the lost girl, so far away from home. The valiant child, who will die in battle so very soon._"

She shivered in his hands suddenly, her heart beating double time as the demon's voice echoed in both their minds together. He didn't know who had remembered the beast, if it had been himself or her, but even now he pushed it away. Rose had not died, no matter how valiant. Far from home, oh yes. But she would not die. Not if he had anything to say about it.

_"Planet Earth. This is where I was born. And this is where I died. The first nineteen years of my life, nothing happened. Nothing at all, not ever. And then I met a man called the Doctor. A man who could change his face. And he took me away from home in his magical machine. He showed me the whole of time and space. I thought it would never end."_

He recoiled from her, her warm breath cooling as it mingled with the air surrounding him. When had she thought that? Even as he whispered it internally he was seeing when she had thought those words, where she had been. Bad Wolf Bay, before he had come for her.

His next words mirrored the words of her memories precisely as they opened up before him. "How long are you going to stay with me?"

And her voice, so gentle. So loving as she, at that same moment, echoed aloud the words she had spoken that wonderful day on that alien planet. _"Forever."_

Forever. Yes. He wanted that _forever_ more than he had ever wanted anything else then.

But even as they hovered in the golden warmth of their words, her voice came gently, softly. Came up from behind, almost sneakily and forced open a door of golden memories. _"That's easy for you to say! You don't have children!" _Her tone had been smug for a moment.

His came in an absentminded response. _"I was a dad once."_

And suddenly he was up against a hard wall even as her voice echoed dimly all about in the molten recesses of her mind. _"What did you say?"_ As her voice sounded eerily all about him he realized there was something there, that mental block the blond girl had told him about. He saw it, sensed it with his mind, his fingers gently clasping her face. He went for it, opening that door in her mind without even asking. A moment later he was assaulted, completely and disturbingly overwhelmed by images that shot forth, running over his mind's eye even as he reached for them, reached to understand them. And just as he felt the image, the _presence_, of another person in that room, he threw himself in and barred the mental door behind himself. He was willing to face whatever it was that was coming toward him alone. He would protect Rose's mind from it.

_"This message is for you, Father."_

His head jerked sideways, eyes shut tightly as a girl's light voice reached his ears, thatblond girl's voice, as if she stood before him in the TARDIS console room. Father?

_"You love her. I can see why."_

Lips parting, head lifting a bit, he reached out for the owner of that lilting voice, his fingers tightening on Rose's face. She made a small sound, her own head wrenching a bit at the strength behind his grasp, her weight pressing down on him.

_"She loves you as well. But…she's wrong. She doesn't let us see, neither you nor me. But her presence here, now. In this timeline. It's wrong, not her time. Since the beach, you said. She hasn't been right since the beach. She's dismantling the world, the walls, bit by bit. She's destroying us, one by one."_

"No," he whispered in refusal and under his fingers Rose bowed her head, eyes still shut tightly, a frown furrowing her brow.

"What is it? What do you see?" she asked him, worry causing an edge in her tone. "Doctor?"

He shushed her softly, one hand leaving her cheek to brush gentle fingers across her mouth and she exhaled against those fingers, somehow caught one between her lips. The gesture was faint at first as his fingers halted, hesitated there. Even as he searched that blocked memory he was very aware of her lips pressing against his index finger, her breath against it for a tender moment.

_"Believe me when I say that everyone that has been sent back is dead. Gone. All of them. As are you, now. Martha Jones. Donna Noble. Jack Harkness. Even Jack Harkness. The might of the Bad Wolf. She can give and she can strip away. As I leave this message, I fear you also have perished. I don't know what will happen from here. I only hope that I made the right decision to leave this message inside her rather than chance giving it directly to you. I wouldn't even know what to say had I been forced to give the message to you directly."_

There was a flash streaking behind his closed eyelids. Rose seemed to feel it as well, a gasp breaking from her, her knees on either side of him and her bandaged hands gripping his wrists tightly.

"_She'll go insane. And she's so powerful. So absolutely powerful. If you thought the sight of a paradox machine, the sound of the cloister bell was enough…you haven't seen anything. Not when she becomes the Bad Wolf again.__ But she is not complete. And I don't have long. She's coming. After me, now."_

"What is it?" Rose asked him frantically, lifting her face to the hand suspended over her mouth, the other hand leaving his slender wrists to press against one of his hearts. "Doctor, what is it? I can't-"

"I have a daughter," he whispered in wonder, head tilted up toward her, his hearts breaking at the girl's frantic voice bouncing around his head.

"What?" Rose recoiled slightly from him in disbelief, head twitching away from him.

_"I will be the last one he will send. That you will send. There's no one else after me. Please, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But she's going insane. I can hear it, all the whispers in her head, all the visions she sees. Too many voices in there, so much confusion. She's broken now and you can't fix her anymore. I can't even reach her anymore. Please. Fix this. Fix it. For all of us."_

There was another flash, this one golden, and then the girl's voice was gone and he was left holding Rose's face in his palm, his other hand hovering over her lips as she shuddered breathlessly.

"What is-" she whispered hoarsely against his hand, her frame trembling above him. "What did you see?"

Opening his eyes at last, his throat dry, he was thankful he had the jump seat under him and that Rose was holding him steady even as he balanced her above him. But as the TARDIS console room came into focus before him he held himself still, his hands hovering over Rose's face.

"What?" she asked him fearfully, her eyes coming open and gazing down at him. Needing to know.

He looked up at her, at his hand hovering over her lips, feeling dampness on the tips of his fingers and her lips were parted. He didn't know if the dampness came from her tears or her lips. Her face was horror-stricken even though he knew she had not been witness to the visions he had been presented with. She knew nothing of what he had seen. It was the function of the mind lock and he had never seen reason to use one.

"What did you see?" she asked him tremulously.

He didn't quite know how to answer her question.

"You said…you had a daughter," she said to him, her eyes shining with hurt. "And you've said before, how you'd had a family once. Had been a Dad once. And I don't know anything about it. But I'm…" she whispered, a gentle frown crossing her face under his fingers. "I don't-"

"She had blond hair," he said to her then, his voice seeming distant, very aware suddenly of her weight on him, of her figure straddling him. "Another child. One I never had before. Only in your memories did I have her. A girl with blond hair." Even as she lifted her head to him he had shifted his hand from her cheek, fingers curling around a lock of her hair as he looked toward it. "Blond hair."

Rose gazed at him silently, her lips parting before his other hand as his fingers hesitated over her mouth. And in that moment he knew she understood what he was driving at, what he suspected. "No," she murmured to him, shaking her head.

His eyes darted up to meet hers and then held, intense in their gaze.

"She's not…mine," Rose said to him, her face seemingly confused. She gazed at him, her head tilting mournfully. "Why would you think-" But she cut herself off, her eyes caught by his mouth

"Why couldn't it be you, Rose Tyler?" he asked her gently, his fingers hovering over her lips. His eyes drifted down to her mouth as well, his own opening as he attempted to explain his words foolishly for he was still locked with her mentally. She could see his thoughts even if his words stated something entirely different. "Not that I would assume anything. For all I know everything leading up to her could be pure circumstance, could be something outside of our control, _my_ control. My control. Or your control-" And as she met his gaze once more, as she stilled before him he found himself breaking off, waiting for her. Just as she knew he would wait for her.

He would always wait for her.

She bowed her head to his hand, allowing his palm to brush against her lips, fingertips trailing along her face. She smelled of that floral scent once more, her own scent hovering below it and he reached for it achingly, that fragrance that was pure Rose. They stared at each other and he knew they were both aware of the moment, of the electricity that seemed to hover between them, sparking. Could he forgive himself for what he wanted to do? For what he was about to do? Because no matter how unbearably long the wide expanse of time felt, in the next moment if nothing was done there was about to be an irrevocable change between them. He gazed at her as he thought it, understood that she thought the same because they were completely open to each other. Tendrils of thought floating around each other, his tinted blue and hers gold if they had been visible, tangible.

And then he pulled her down to him completely, his breath caught between them, and their lips met, suddenly and desperately.

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**Next Chapter – Chapter Thirty-Nine: On the Console**

Of all his oral fixations this was the one that drove him mad at times, mostly when he was alone with his own thoughts. As he thought it, as he dwelled on that small fact, he suddenly understood that she could hear everything he was thinking, everything he had just _thought._


	40. On the Console

**A/N: **Ok folks so **WARNING:** with this chapter, the fic officially becomes M-rated. I'm going to try to change the rating before I leave tonight (heading out to PA for the weekend, bro's birthday, yay!) but just be warned. If you don't want to read anything Mature, feel free to skip this chapter, it won't affect the storyline much. Just know that the relationship between the Doctor and Rose for this story will change with this chapter. I want to leave it rated T for a day or so in the hopes that it will attract more readers being visible to all with a T rating. Rest assured I will change it to an M well before the next chapter goes up. To Katherine and Bex19, thanks for the reviews! I couldn't review to your unsigned reviews so I'm thanking you here instead! I'm trying NOT to be evil (LOL) but sometimes it just comes out of me, I can't stop it! Thank you also for making the fic a favorite or for setting it on alert, or heck for setting ME on alert, that's awesome, LOL! Have a great weekend and enjoy, guys!

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**Chapter Thirty-Nine: On the Console**

She felt the air leave her entirely, overwhelmed by his unexpected need even as he dragged her down to him. He struggled to almost inhale all of her, that scent that whispered of a garden and of summer and sand and he couldn't possibly understand it all. But he wanted to see what she tasted like inside, experience her summer. Of all his oral fixations this was the one that drove him mad at times, mostly when he was alone with his own thoughts. As he thought it, as he dwelled on that small fact, he suddenly understood that she could hear everything he was thinking, everything he had just _thought._ It stunned him a moment, his frame stiffening the slightest bit. But a moment later, realizing everything that she had shown him already, everything that was Rose Tyler, his own mental declaration seemed almost small and insignificant. As such he didn't bother keeping any desire in check then. With a groan resembling a snarl he deepened the kiss, needing to taste her.

Feeling his tongue sweep the inside of her mouth, she couldn't fight the sound that escaped her, couldn't have fought him even if she had desired it. There was only one thing she desired then, no matter how wrong he would find it. And from the way he clawed at her she doubted he would have found anything wrong at the moment.

Ripping herself backward she teetered on top of him, and they stared at each other, both heaving. The silence between them was strained and thick with a yearning confusion as they held their eyes locked, still gasping. She had every reason to breathe hard and the dawning bemusement registered on her face for he suddenly swallowed, nodding thoughtlessly, "Right. Respiratory bypass…not kicking…in…give it a mo-"

Completely disregarding his words she bent to him once more, kissing him breathlessly. His words were cut off, a low groan drawing from him slowly as she returned to his arms, her weight against him. This kiss now was gentle, his hands clasping her by the jaw and holding her to him tightly. He needed her to be exactly where she was, to never move away. She understood as they parted and returned, breathed against each other, each individual scent. She smelled of flowers and honey, air and sky. His scent was of everything earthy and natural, of Time itself, forever. He saw those images in his head and didn't know if they were his images or visions that she thought. The feeling that came with them was a comfort, of all things that reminded him of home. His planet had reminded him of home, had _been_ his home. The TARDIS reminded him of the same. Now so did she, her embrace, her mouth moving against his, needing more. He gave more at her insistence, searching for yet another reminder of home in the softness of her kiss, in the sparks she ignited when she ran her fingers against the sides of his neck and clung on.

Tearing her mouth from his, she gasped as he released her just enough to trail down her jaw, his lips warm, his tongue searing against her skin. His fingers came down to rest against her collar, his other hand clutching her by the back of the neck and tangling in the hair at the nape, twisting forcefully. She felt a cry rip from her at his strength, heat flaring in the pit of her stomach and deeper down still, almost stinging at her core. She tried to speak, tried to say something, _anything._ But she could only manage a whimpered beginning, her parted lips opening further as he bit into her neck, his tongue tasting the salt of her skin.

_Oh…God._

He stiffened momentarily against her neck, his breathing just as labored as hers had become, respiratory bypass completely useless. He murmured thickly against her, his voice raw, seeming awestruck. "I can hear you…"

She couldn't have fought through her dizziness to understand even if her very life had depended on it.

"All of it…" he gasped, his shoulders straining, and he pulled once more on the hair at the nape of her neck, bringing her to cry out, her own fingers digging into his shoulders as they swept up thoughtlessly. "Everything you're thinking…I hear you…"

Bowing her head slowly and feeling as if she couldn't keep it lifted on her weak neck, she tried to focus, tried to understand his words. But she couldn't see past the mental blur of black and gray that she had come to associate with her Doctor, her physical eyesight ineffective in his embrace. The same way that she couldn't see past the sudden vision that flashed before her closed eyes, of brown and green. Eyes. Brown eyes speckled with green. Summer. The summer breeze. Wildflowers.

He saw the vision as well, his head burying into her chest, his hand sliding from her jaw to catch against her collar, fingers coiling possessively.

"W-what…is that?" she asked senselessly with a shake of her head as he rocked her, the vision of green and brown lightening to a golden brown before her closed eyes and then once more, now to a molten gold. "W-wha-"

He didn't respond, his mouth opening against her collar, his hair brushing against the underside of her jaw. She lifted a heavy hand to his head, tangling her fingers in his wild locks and clenching down, bringing him to make a small sound. The gentle wanting groan he had exhaled burned inside her, her stomach seeming to flip. Her other hand opened restlessly against his chest before lifting and clamping down on the column of his neck, tightening desperately against it.

"I can't-" she whimpered almost painfully, feeling her eyebrows turn up futilely as he trailed lower, tracking heat and wetness down the part of her collared shirt. She bit back a gasp as his hand slid down, slipping across her breast, yanking down the collar of the shirt almost urgently.

_I need…I need…_

His voice was in her head, stumbling over words even in her mind, all thought chased from him entirely. She bent to him as he captured her mouth once more longingly. The kiss was wet and heated. A growl tore from him as he struggled to claim her, attempting to remain in control even as he felt himself trembling to lose it, his fingers almost cramping against her breast.

She clamped down on the sudden groan that threatened to spill out. Her bandaged hands clutching him, she pulled on his hair, bringing him to snarl under his breath against the flamed skin of her jaw. This wasn't right. No, it _was_ right. She just couldn't hope to ever have any kind of defenses against him with the way she felt for him. If a single long gaze could melt her, there was no way she would be able to survive anything more than that. She was sinking now, falling apart under his fingers and his mouth, quivering.

_This isn't fair-_

And his mental shrug of her words, casting them aside as if she hadn't whimpered in her head at all. Because it didn't matter then. Not to him and quite truthfully, not to her after that. Not as much as the way he felt under her, his hand taking hold of the button shirt and yanking almost angrily, spilling buttons all around as he tore it open impatiently to reach more of her.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against her chest, his breath ghosting across the flat bone under his mouth. Her scent was powerful here, where her heart beat in her veins, where her skin was hottest. She released that scent unknowingly and he felt as if he swam in it. "Tell me-"

She hunched forward against him as he held his breath and seared heat to her breast. He took hold of her collar with his free hand and yanked it off her shoulder, exposing flushed skin to his mouth, her scent nearly suffocating him. He wanted it all then, to sink into her heat and to drown in the scent that was Rose Tyler, that was her arousal. And she was aroused, of that he was certain. He could smell it on the air, could almost state with perfect conviction how she would taste on his tongue.

Words spilled from her, indecipherable and throaty, as she let him rid her of one sleeve, her other hand refusing to release his hair. Even if he could have put into words what he needed her to do, he couldn't have blamed her for not comprehending.

"Tell me what you want," he ordered, pulling away from her and lifting a dark gaze to meet her eyes.

She heaved, one wrist suddenly caught by his when she took too long to respond, her free hand tangled in his hair. "No, I-" she replied weakly, circles pronounced under her eyes as she began to pale, under those summer irises.

He didn't voice the threat that he could read her mind and rip her words from her. "Tell me what you want," he said yet again. His grip tightened on her wrist, his breath circling the exposed skin above the edge of her bra. He was uncertain whether he was hurting her, his thumb trailing across the palm of her hand, but there was no pain in their connection.

"Y-you…" she breathed shakily before stopping and forcing a stronger tone, driving herself to gain some form of composure. "You know what I want," she murmured to him hoarsely, her chest rising and falling, inadvertently brushing against his lips with every breath she took. She was well aware of it, aware that if he really wanted her he could have her, that she would not fight him. It wouldn't even _be_ a fight.

This wasn't going to be easy, she realized as his eyes darkened further at the thickness in her voice, as his eyes met hers and caught, focusing furtively.

Without another word, his jaw clenching, he released the hair at the nape of her neck, hearing her breath slip from her audibly. A moment later that same breath caught as he took hold of the other side of her shirt and yanked it down her arm. Her face registered sweet shock at his gesture, her chest rising in mid-gasp. With the motion, still connected to her mentally, he heard her mindless words as they echoed deep inside, her face draining of color as she suddenly seemed to see something in his gaze.

_The Oncoming Storm…that's what it looks like, that's what they see, when they…when they…dark. Angry. Pain. Scared. I'm scared. Yes. Oh God, yes…No. I'm scared…I'm scared. Don't let it hurt. Don't let it ever hurt. Will it hurt? I don't want it to hurt. But he's so dark…and I need it. I need it. Oh, I need you. Please. Please. Just hurry. I need you, inside. Now. Now, now, now. Bloody hell, do it. Just do it. No. Don't do it. Don't. I'm scared. Don't let this hurt. Please, please, don't let me get hurt. I love you-_

He stared at her with parted lips. Her face was pale even as she seemed to surrender, her shoulders rigid as she waited. And he suddenly felt as if he needed to have it done, her words spurring him on. He needed to have her, to even overpower her, to keep her by his side. She was _his._ No one else could have her. The entire train of thought was barbaric, below him, but he couldn't focus himself. He was overwhelmed by her scent, by her breath and by her yearning thoughts as they sped through his head in a confusing sentence of words and emotions.

Lifting his fingers to the hand gripping his hair tightly, he forced her to open her grasp and unwrap her fingers. Yanking her shirt free of that second limb, he flung it aside carelessly, off to a corner of the console room. It didn't matter where, he just needed it off her then. His head turned toward her hand as she moved to return it to the nape of his neck. But then trembling, and not from fear, she dragged it to his jaw, bending toward him and burying her face against his neck. He dropped his head back a bit, his lips parting, his breath leaving him as she trailed her lips along his pulse. It had been so long since he had allowed anyone to touch him like this, to stir those feelings in him. And of course it would be her that he would allow, only her that he would want in this way. He felt his breath heave inside his chest, his cheek grazing against something far rougher than her skin.

Her bandaged wrist and palms.

Dimly nudging her wrist, he loosened the edge of the gauze he'd used. He wanted her skin, her flesh against his because anything rougher would feel like it was scraping. He knew through her mental state that she already felt quite tender, almost burning. He took hold of the loose piece with his teeth, his left hand lifting to settle against the curve of her hip and opening achingly against it. He appreciated that curve, the swell of it, and he blindly took hold of the wrapping with his other hand, unwinding it quickly, absentmindedly. He needed it off.

As the last edge of it trailed away, he was hit with the bitter, medicinal odor of the salve he had applied to her wounds. But her own scent lay under it and it was strong here as well, at the very center of her hand. He turned his face into it, shoulders straining as she bit into the skin of his collar. She pulled away as pain flared through their connection from him but even as she recoiled his hand was tightening on her hip, becoming steel and refusing to allow her to leave. She turned her head toward his, meeting his eyes. They were clouded, pupils dilated under their heaviness, his mouth parted. His gaze shifted past her eyes a moment later and she dimly heard his words, real mental words rather than the cloudy mix of breaths and groans. He was looking at her other bandaged hand and he wanted those wraps off immediately, especially now that he knew her hands were new under them. She projected quite clearly in return that she wanted his clothes off him and his gaze instantly darted back to meet hers, arousal evident there in that depthless blackness. At the same time that he lifted his hand from her hip toward her wrist, she was closing the distance between them, crushing herself to him, needing his mouth. He gave it wordlessly, a deep moan trailing from him as his fingers undid the other gauze edge, uncoiling it rapidly. As the other hand came loose, now free of gashes, she brought it to cup his face. She felt the line of his jaw move as he opened his mouth to her, as he returned her kiss, her want. The very exhilaration of finally being open to her was evident in his gestures, his thoughts. Was it because she had been open first?

He pulled back slightly from her, his eyes shut tightly, her thought ringing through his head. No, that wasn't why, she understood. But as she dug further for the real answer, she was abruptly surrounded by an unyielding wall, coming up against it roughly. She mentally lifted her hands to it, pushing. Physically, her eyes came open to stare at him. He was heaving before her, his shoulders stiff, his jaw tight under her palms.

_"What's wrong?"_ she asked both in her head and aloud. Her voice suddenly seemed too noisy, too much in the strange world they shared.

His eyes opened, focusing within a mere fraction of a second, and he shook his head wordlessly, reaching for her once more. Only now his kiss was forceful, almost angry. Not angry with her, that much she was able to decipher from his internal mood and thoughts. But angry, bitter, at something that she didn't understand. More than bitter. Heartbroken, with no other way to help it except to throw all caution and care to the wind and exist in the moment. It was the sort of temper he was in, to not allow anything to touch what they had then and there. To not allow anything to come near it, to protect it. The mere thought caused a sea of warmth to rush over her, her grip on him tightening. He belonged to her, she stated for him to hear, her heart trembling with the thought. He was _hers_.

With a shuddering breath in agreement, he took hold of her along the underside of her thighs, dragging her against him, aware that he was responding to her physically because of that simple declaration. She knew it as well as she collided against him almost painfully, her lips parting, her hips pressing to his in reckless need. Her head fell forward, her hands coming to steady herself against his heaving chest. She opened her eyes to look at him, her mouth bruised red, her eyes now a blazing summer night. He could see his moonlight trailing across her landscape, there in the world hidden in her eyes. Her lips closed as she gazed at him, as she leaned down and captured his mouth desperately, her hands winding into his hair once more roughly.

He could also hear her mental groans and sighs, heat flaring up his back and down into his center, burning him up as he returned her need. Lifting her silently, he rose to his feet, her legs instantly winding around his waist and pressing her core to him instinctively. How human, how animalistic. Yet he could not blame her. Because no matter how highly the Time Lords held themselves, they too would be undone by a simple human girl if they felt for her the way he did Rose Tyler. He couldn't have fought her even a moment had she decided one day to skip right over the line they had firmly established between the two of them. In fact, he had been grateful for all those times she had fought her own nature, had held him in darkness instead of comforting him in a physical sense. He had been grateful, relieved, that she hadn't pushed their boundaries. And he had gone to rest many a time wanting more, wanting her and her flushed skin, the scent of her arousal nearly drowning and destroying him. There had been days he had caught that scent in the hallways of the TARDIS, uncertain whether he wanted to curse the day he had brought a human girl aboard the TARDIS, or curse his desire to march down the hallways toward her room and take her then and there.

With a groan he took a step and shoved her down against the console of the TARDIS. She made a small sound at the back of her throat, her head falling against the controls as he recoiled only enough to stare down at her, at her heaving figure under him. No doubt all the dials of the console had bitten into her skin and back but she was striking, beautiful. His. Even in her state of undress she was stunning, he reflected, one of his hands lifting and trailing the curve of her thigh to the back of her knee. Shifting against her, he lifted the other hand and took hold of her hair once more at the nape of her neck roughly.

She cried out, her brow drawing into a frown, her expression pained. "Oh God-" she uttered almost agonizingly, her back arching. She saw the darkness there, the images he'd just thought of the hallway, images of him storming into her room, her very center quivering. He wasn't doing that now but this was just as intrusive and just as electrifying.

_I am no God._

His words came in her head, a whisper. He wanted to tell her that aloud even as he yanked her head back by her hair, as he unwound one of her legs from his waist slightly.

_I am no God._

Then, no longer caring, no longer wishing to _think_, he pushed her thigh away, opening her enough to reach down between her legs. He encountered no resistance under her skirt and in his blind heat he only managed to murmur incoherently against her mouth, his fingers slipping into her wetness. The sudden assault brought a deep gasp to her lips and she mouthed an, _"Oh-"_ even as he bent to her lips to capture that moan. He needed to hold that sound in his own mouth, needed to roll it about and revel in it. His fingers exacted their own revenge on her as he met her kiss, her breath stifled under his own. She bucked against him, breaking from his lips, cries ringing from her as he played, fingers sliding and skimming, rubbing and teasing. She was limp in his embrace, languid yet rigid as he tested her, gauging her reaction by facial expression alone. Her thoughts were a mere ramble of words and sighs, at times screaming and deafening him, other times caressing his mind weakly. By her parted lips alone he knew running a finger here didn't affect her as much as flicking a finger there and he was rewarded with a gasp and then a plea, her head thrown back, her hips lifting to him almost as a sacrifice. He desired her sacrifice, desired _her_ as her scent threatened to overwhelm him. Did she taste the way he thought she did from scent alone? He didn't know and neither did she, he understood.

Skimming through her memories and her thoughts like an open book, he could see everything of her. What she liked, what she didn't, what she had given up, what she had held close to her heart. Even as he spread his fingers against her core, as he slipped one in to her convulsive cry, he knew that touching her this way was arousing and simultaneously affecting her mentally. She wanted him, all of him, everything that he was. And she was afraid in her desire. Afraid of this Oncoming Storm she had witnessed very few times. Yet the mere thought of being taken by someone like him was exciting her even more. She had wanted his previous incarnation, witnessed him now in her head. A fantasy of hers, replayed numerous times, always at night in the darkness of her room. Being taken by his previous self, roughly and almost angrily. Then a fantasy of himself, with the youthful features, with the gentler face and softer words but still possessing that darkness of his former self.

She was slippery under his fingers and his lips parted, his breathing hitched as he inhaled her scent. He wanted to taste her, all of her. He moved to do so, his slick fingers leaving her, his free hand lifting from her hair and taking hold of her wrist, yanking it above her head.

She allowed him senselessly, her back arching with the gesture. A moment later he had her other wrist above her head as well, trapped by the outer fingers of his other hand. Her eyes came open to gaze at him as he clutched her pinned wrists with one hand and lifted his wet fingers to his lips, his tongue flicking out. With a pained moan she heaved desperately, her eyes closing in heated desire as he tasted her on his fingers.

"You taste sweet," he murmured as if she had really wanted to know. Proving it to her, he bent over her trapped form again, exhaling as her breasts pushed up into his chest. His slick mouth captured hers, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.

She quivered as he pulled away a bit, his fingers returning to her core, missing her heat. Opening her eyes to gaze at him she breathed, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes, "Please."

His hair falling damply across his forehead as he restrained her arms over her head, he stared down at her shivering figure. "Tell me what you want," he said to her once more softly, his fingers also slowing. She finally did sob, her head falling back weakly at his words. He pressed his face against her throat, hearing her heart race under his ear. "Anything you want. Anything. Tell me. _Show me. _Make me understand how you want this-"

_As if this is to be our one and only time. As if this was the end of the world. Help me understand._

She did so upon hearing the plea in his mental voice, his physical voice. Visions swarmed her mind as she summoned them, as she brought them to the forefront of her thoughts. And she flung them at him frantically, needing him to see and finish it, put her out of her sweet misery. "Take them," she whispered, her eyes clenched shut, her back arching as his fingers moved mindlessly against her, a groan sliding out between her lips. "Take them-"

So many visions. His eyes opened and still all he could see were the visions, the force with which she flung them at him. Even if he hadn't been reaching out with his mind, he would have been cracked upside the head with them. With the visions came so many other senses filling them. She desired his lips against her throat, against her own mouth. In the fleeting vision, he caught what must have been the heat of his breath as it trailed across her skin and the force with which she wanted him to kiss her. She was whispering in his ear even then, her words thick, her frame trembling under him yet reaching for him desperately.

_Stop._

It was her voice whispering it in his head but at the same time she threw another image at him, confusing him. He almost couldn't tell her mind from reality. He caught the scent drifting from his hair as she had an image of trailing her fingers through the soft locks, clamping down and dragging his head back to kiss him freely. Kissing him in her head but unable to on the TARDIS console, her wrists still pinned. He felt the impression of his lean arms tightening around her nude frame through her images, pressing soft skin but hard angles to her curves as he sank down into her. The fleeting realization as she envisioned the two of them in bed, as she tried to show him how she would feel with him inside her but unable to because everyone was different, him especially. But she wanted it, needed it. Heaving, limbs wet with sweat, slick against each other. The motions, the intensity.

_Stop…_

He tried to focus through her visions, straining, unaware of everything else around him. Just to regain some semblance of control, to try to sort her images. But perhaps that was what being human was. Complete loss of control when one felt safe, desired.

_Please. Please stop-_

He couldn't find fault with it. He could abandon everything with her, just let himself _feel_ so long as it was with her. She made him feel safe in her arms. And he had his own visions, visions of her beneath him, her skin flushed. Images of her lips parting as she took him into herself. Images as she moved and shifted in darkness, her breath, her mouth and her heat. The feel of her on top of him, before him. Something was rising in him, a need. A desperate need to _not stop,_ to continue. Faster. More. Hurry. Don't stop. He didn't understand it but it was polarizing, dragging him in one direction and then another. His hearts were beating faster than he was accustomed to, his breath hitching. But his own images wouldn't stop either and for a moment he wasn't even sure they were still his and not hers once more. The feel of her as he trailed his fingers across the back of her shoulder, as he pulled her backward to him by the curve of her hip, as she stiffened when he was inside of her. Was that one of his desires or one of hers? He didn't even know anymore but it wasn't as if it mattered because it just meant they both wanted that. Her cries ripping from her, perspiration trailing across her skin, making it glint in soft light as he claimed her. Something was coming, cresting but he continued on. He wanted to see, _needed to see_ her peak as he moved within her, wanting to feel himself climax inside her. He saw the soft lines of her gentle smile as she turned to him and allowed him to kiss her deeply, a purr rising from her throat. Even in his own head she was beautiful, striking. He needed to continue until he reached the end and he was so close as it was. Heat rose inside him in wild waves, his breath leaving him in gasps. He was close. No. _She_ was close. The peak was there, waiting for him to crest it. Just a bit more. An eternity more of this feeling.

_Doctor-_

Something broke within him, a sudden dam. But she was the one crying out under him, aloud. He shut his eyes tightly, feeling as if he needed to ride the feeling out but he was aware of himself physically and he was still complete. He didn't understand. Rose was shifting under his grip however, her arms straining over her head, her muscles trembling. He snapped back from her slightly as if she had hit him, unaware of his limbs, only that she was somehow hurt. An expression resembling pain crossed her face as she turned it away from him, her chest lifting and falling erratically under him, her breath uneven as she gasped unsteadily. He realized a moment later why she was flushed and what that mounting feeling in his head had been. He slowly pulled his fingers from her core, feeling the shiver that rippled through her at his trailing touch transfer to him through their mental connection. And for one complete moment he had no idea what to do.

Silence enveloped the console room of the TARDIS, falling heavily and unbearably painfully. Quiet except for her softening whimpers and moans.

She moved her arms slightly and he abruptly remembered to release her. He did so gingerly, his eyes darting across her wrists and understanding that he had left them pinched and bruised. They would show the marks in a mere matter of hours and he flexed his fingers, looking down at them as if to blame them. Where had he disappeared to, the usual him, the _Time Lord,_ when she had been screaming at him to stop? He recoiled from her, rising away and straightening blindly, shamefully.

Sitting up very slowly, her chest still heaving, Rose placed her hands down at her sides to lift herself up. She trembled, he could see the fine shivers racing through her but he waited for her as she bowed her head away from him in silence. And now, self conscious, she lifted one hand and shoved her skirt down toward her knees to cover herself. He heard her convulsive swallowing quite clearly as she forced her breathing to slow, and he studied her as she lifted the other hand and smoothed down her hair reflexively.

As she lowered herself from the console, she merely allowed it to hold her up, her legs not fully capable of keeping her steady yet. Even through their connection, dim now but not yet severed, he could sense how weak she was feeling, how awkward. Her eyes shifted toward him, only making it to his chest before they darted away, focusing on the grate below their feet.

Feeling pain in his chest at her reaction, he lifted a hand toward her, his lips parting. But even he reacted at looking at his hand. One was still slick with her, the other had trapped and held her down to the console. He couldn't touch her with either hand.

She whispered softly, her eyes averted, her head bowed. "It shouldn't have happened that way."

He stared at her, his hearts beating erratically out of sync. "At all."

Darting toward him for a fleeting moment, her eyes hesitated once more on his chest as if they couldn't bear to go higher. "Don't say that."

He didn't understand her words then.

Turning her body away from him the tiniest bit, her hands taking hold of the console behind her, she said quietly, "It wasn't wrong."

Swallowing inaudibly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, he replied, "Wasn't it?"

"No," she answered firmly yet still refusing to meet his gaze. "It wasn't wrong." And she straightened finally, her head bowed. "It just wasn't…how I would have wanted it. What I expected to feel."

He lifted his head, looking down at her through weary eyes. "What did you expect-" But a moment later he cut himself off. He already knew what she had expected to feel. What she had wanted. He had just been so caught up in himself and everything he had asked her to show him that he hadn't been aware of her until she had already crested that peak. He felt his shoulders fall wearily, felt a sudden burden fall on him.

She was still murmuring quietly and he caught her words at the end. "-going to bed."

He nodded numbly, his eyes falling away from her. Would he be able to face her in the morning? Would he be able to do anything in the morning to make it right at all? Between the two of them? Between the present and the future? Even more, could he give her up now? Now that he had that faint glimpse into what waited for them? The deaths of those people to come? Those people that he barely knew but had somehow come to mean so much to him that he would entrust them to go back for him? Martha Jones, Donna Noble, Jack Harkness. Even his own daughter.

Everything would change in the morning. He would see to it. But was this the way he wanted it all to end?

And then he became aware that she was still before him, was holding out a hand to him. He looked at it then at her, a gentle frown crossing his face as he met her summer eyes. They were soft once more, the faint ghost of a smile almost turning the corners of her lips but it was fragile there, waiting on him. Dependent on him.

"Come to bed with me," she whispered. "Let's make it right."

Looking down at her hand once more, his hearts locking up inside his chest, he hesitated what seemed to be an eternity. Yes, he agreed. Allow them both the chance to make it right, to make it perfect between the two of them before he went and destroyed it all.

Wordlessly, he took her hand and she exhaled as if she had been holding that breath for far too long. Her relief burst from her and he felt the waves within himself still, felt as they ran through him. He felt himself go limp as she turned and swept toward him, releasing his hand to wind her arms around his neck almost violently, painfully. With a stunted breath he embraced her in return, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his arms tight around her waist and back. And there was her scent once more, their mental connection flaring powerfully from their contact, the earlier waves of shivers threatening to rise yet again. With it came the desire to experience her, for the first time. Once more.

"Just one night," she murmured against his neck, her frame trembling in his lean arms. "Just one."

He agreed. Just one. One night in which he would give himself to her entirely and take her just as completely. One blissful night to allow himself to sink into her warmth and believe the world, the universe, to be right.

Because everything would change in the morning.

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**Next Chapter – Chapter Forty: All That Matters**

Her thoughts were calm, the complete opposite of his and even as he noticed it, he was aware that she could sense how chaotic the voice in his head was. He went to rear his thoughts back, to slow them down and she looked over her shoulder at him, a small smile quirking the corners of her lips. The mere presence of the smile threw everything from his head then. All he knew was that he wanted to kiss that mouth, immerse himself in her thoughts and her embrace.


	41. All That Matters

**A/N: **Heya folks, really busy day today. I have yet to even get back to some of your reviews so I'm REALLY sorry! I'm going to try to get back to you guys and also to personal emails, I just can't believe how busy today is. I'm sending this out on my lunch hour because it's the only time I'm left alone, lol! Anyhoo, here's Part II of the smut. Hee!

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**Chapter Forty: All That Matters**

She chose his room. They passed hers by completely, walking in silence, his hand clutched in hers. He was aware of how warm her skin was through her grip, how peaceful she was in her head. As if this was how it was always meant to be, where they were always meant to end up, in each other's arms. His eyes lifted to her back as she led him, straying from the skin of her waist to her blond hair. Her thoughts were calm, the complete opposite of his and even as he noticed it, he was aware that she could sense how chaotic the voice in his head was. He went to rear his thoughts back, to slow them down and she looked over her shoulder at him, a small smile quirking the corners of her lips. The mere presence of the smile threw everything from his head then. All he knew was that he wanted to kiss that mouth, immerse himself in her thoughts and her embrace.

She turned the corner into his corridor and his door waited only feet away. She went for it silently, taking him with her. Even as her arm lifted to grasp the knob, he was pushing the door open with his own hand, turning her to face him. That same hand came to settle across her cheek, lifting her face to his, his mouth stealing across hers immediately. She pushed close to him, releasing him to press against his frame and she was perfect there, her curves and her hot breath as she returned his kiss, as she demanded more. He blindly pulled her into his room, walking backward into the darkness, the only light that of the TARDIS corridor they had just left. He knew every inch of his room, knew how many steps it was until he would reach his bed, and as he thought it she did then as well.

The back of his knees hit the side of his bed and he was aware that he hadn't been counting, hadn't even been aware of how many steps he had taken, much too distracted by her lips and her hands. He could smell her on his skin, on his hand as he trailed his fingers through her hair, taking locks of it into his grasp. It was how he knew it would feel, its silken softness flowing through his fingers as she opened her mouth, as she tilted her head. The soft sound came from him unsteadily, his frame teetering against the edge of the bed. A moment later she had pushed him that simple step too far, forcing him to fall to the bed, her hair slipping from his hand. He raised his face to her instantly as their kiss was broken and she was lifting her knee, the denim skirt restraining her just enough to allow her to half straddle his lap. He leaned back slightly, closing his eyes as she lifted her other leg onto the bed, her fingertips passing across his temple, his cheekbone. Her touch took it all away, everything he feared would come in the morning, everything they had left behind. All he knew then was that they were exactly where they needed to be now. Her lips came down upon his and he instinctively opened his mouth to hers, tasting her, allowing her to taste him deep inside as well. She already knew some of his deeper thoughts, why not allow her more of it, more of him? He owed her that and so much more.

Seating herself on his lap, she lifted her other hand to his face as well, digging her fingers into his hair and latching on. She loved the feel of his hair; said as much through her purr and in that inner golden voice of hers, melodic and so very Rose. He wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her close to him even as he lowered himself fully to the bed, taking her with him. As his back pressed to the mattress, he pulled her with him, fingers tightening along her side, from the curve of her rib to the swell of her hip. They had left her jumper behind in the console room, his hands floating along the smooth skin of her, elbows pushing into the mattress under him with the gesture. She felt right, her weight upon him and the caress of her hair as she kissed him, her tongue slipping across his. She couldn't feel anymore right no matter how wrong the world was then. And he didn't want the world to be wrong, didn't want any of it to feel mistaken.

She mirrored the thought, nodding inside as well as physically and he immediately shut down his thoughts, bringing her to pause slightly. He was not going to permit her to see anything that was to come after this night and he allowed his head to drop to the bed with a muffled sound as she hesitated.

"Why are you blocking yourself off from me?" she asked him quietly, searching his eyes.

He shook his head slightly, lips tightening. "You shouldn't have to see anything more than what I feel," he replied and he raised his head to kiss her, gazing at her even as he did so. She returned his kiss with open eyes as well, her uncertainty hovering in their connection. But when he closed his eyes to deepen the kiss once more, she did the same, her hands lowering from his hair to his neck, his chest.

She shouldn't have to ever see anything more than what he felt for her, he echoed himself, his fingers pushing her hair back from her face as he rose toward her, as he pulled her down to him. Nothing else mattered then. In the darkness with the light falling across the edge of her face and forming a halo around her hair, he allowed himself to gaze at her. A small smile lit her face as she met his eyes, as she read his thoughts. He still couldn't say those words to her, even as they seemed to float in his head. It was all he heard from her though, those three words, hovering in her mind and on her lips though they didn't pass there either. Only from one kiss to the other did they pass the words, the declaration.

He closed his eyes once more as she lifted her hands to his tie, as she undid it and tossed it aside. This was going to happen, he understood. All those years, never once allowing themselves to cross the line, but hadn't they crossed that line earlier, only moments ago? He lifted himself from the bed slightly, refusing to break from her mouth as she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the collar from his neck. She wanted him to sit up, wanted his clothes off him, desired him then and there. He sat up to help her, following her mental directions for she seemed far clearer in mind than he was at the moment. Was it because it had been such a long time since he had allowed himself to be with anyone? Was it because of her? That it was her he was allowing himself to be with? He didn't know and couldn't even think properly at the moment to much care. She was pulling his shirt from him, dragging it down off one shoulder to his elbow and then the same with the other side.

"Up," she demanded in between kisses and he did as she asked, wanting very much to touch her even as she pushed his hands from her body. His shirt clung to his elbows and wrists as she pushed them down his arms and he was forced to break the kiss to turn his attention to it, cursing shirtsleeves then more than any other time in his immeasurably long life.

"Blast this…shirt-" he growled as she laughed softly in his ear, as she lowered her lips to that tender spot below his earlobe. The caress brought him to a slow stop, his lips parting, all thought floating away to the gentle sound of her mental laughter. She was a sly little minx, he realized dimly. His body seemed to sway in her arms as she managed to free him of his shirt in the midst of her distraction and then toss it aside as well.

_The trousers are going to be a bit tougher._

Her voice in his head was thoughtful, beguiling as well. He tilted his head to press against hers, unaware that his breath had quickened until he felt it lift his chest almost violently.

_Unless we don't take them off at all-_

He turned slightly toward her, frowning, but she was pushing him back down to the bed, her mouth hot against his neck. His fingers took hold of the sheet under his body, tightening at the shiver that shot through him. "The trousers…need to come off," he said to her in heaving breaths, one hand lifting to tangle in her hair and pull her lips to his. "They definitely need-"

Even as he went to finish his sentence, her hands lowered to his trousers and undid them, yanking them open under her. He felt the air touch upon him then, causing him to freeze rigidly.

"Or…you're right," he nodded at her, swallowing breathlessly. "They don't need to come off at all-"

"Nope," she murmured, returning to his mouth.

He lowered himself back down to the bed, quite aware of her heat against him, her hips pressing down onto his as she stretched out across him. Her weight settled him perfectly, his hands pushing into her hair and holding her face to his, unwilling to ever let her break the kiss again. Every part of her seemed to be pressed to him and he would never wish for it to be any other way, not anymore. Not when she felt much too perfect where she was at the moment.

Raising herself slightly, her head tilting to rest against his, she trailed her hand down between them, into the waistband of his trousers. He dipped slightly from her touch, his lips parting at the faint tickle of her fingers but a moment later her hand was enveloping him below and he inhaled, his head pressing back into the surface of his bed. He was hard and ready for her, the warmth of her hand almost too hot. He felt her turn her face back toward him, her mouth passing along his, tugging at his bottom lip. He couldn't even attempt to fight her, not when he was so completely at her mercy the way he was. His eyes flickered open, his breath in his throat and the warm light of the corridor bathed her bare shoulder. He'd had a similar flash in the console room only moments before, of light streaking across her skin, illuminating her to him. Here in his bedroom she looked just as beautiful, just as haunting.

And that's how he would always view her, he understood then as her fingers played below, the mental images and words transferring over to her as he thought them. Should anything ever happen where they were separated again, perhaps permanently, she would forever haunt him. Her hair, her expressions, her skin. The flash of gold in her hazel summer eyes. The mere vision streaked through his head, causing him to stiffen even more than her touch and he shut it down firmly then and there. She turned her head at having a door shut soundly in their connection but he was hers once more, a breath leaving him under her hand's rhythm.

Achingly, he shifted his head from hers, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of her. Then once more, his mouth closing into a kiss against the soft skin over the bone of her shoulder. She dropped her head down beside his, her fingers tightening around him and bringing him to stop in mid-breath. His hand lifted to cup the back of her neck, fingers hard against the pale column and she turned her face to look at him, her lips parted around her breath. He understood what the look meant, could hear her voice in his head even as she was moving. But all he could do was watch her as she rose from him, his fingers caught along her neck still. Her fingertips shifted across him, trailing up his shaft as she lifted herself from him only momentarily. He felt her steady him, positioning him just enough to take his head inside of her before shifting her hands to press against his chest. Almost blindly, he lifted his free hand to hers, clasping it to one of his hearts, aware then how quickly they both pounded, his hearts and hers as well. She knew what this meant as much as he did and even if she hadn't, his words were echoing through their connection. It had been much too long. He'd never felt as strongly for anyone else as he did for her. This was one more step, he just didn't know if it was in the right direction. What he did know was that he wouldn't have wanted to take that step with anyone else. She gazed at him upon hearing his words, up reflecting them in her head. Then she was lowering herself onto him, enveloping him inside her tight walls slowly, perfectly.

His body straightened reflexively, his hands tightening on her, his breath tangling in his throat. Her lips came open at the sensation, a shiver racing down her spine and transferring to him and for a complete moment there was nothing but the feeling of their connection, of a union. She realized she was stiff, feeling fragile on top of him. Below her and inside her, he felt the exact same, as if the slightest force could break him into pieces.

Then, his fingers around her neck digging into the nape, he found words blossoming to life in his head. They were words he would never have spoken and even thinking them, he was swallowing them back. Regardless, he was unable to stop himself from thinking them, from sharing them. He wanted her to stay still because he was afraid he would break apart and float away. And yet he wanted her to move, to continue to fan the flames they had created between them. He wanted to burn inside her, wanted her to feel what he was feeling because there was no way to explain it aloud with silly useless words.

Slowly, she lifted her hand to his wrist, tilting her head slightly, her neck resting in his palm. With the same gesture, she rose away from him, taking away her heat before lowering herself once more to encase him again. His groan was soft in the physical world but echoed in her head, reverberating inside of her. She repeated the movement, if for nothing else but to hear him make that sound once more. He chuckled quietly under her, bringing her to tilt her head back toward him and he was watching her gently. "Heard me, did you?" she asked him dimly.

His reply came as a simple breathy yes even though he spoke inwards as well. _"I can hear everything you think and see everything you feel,"_ his mental voice whispered, shifting in and out of every recess in her head.

She found the sensation positively beautiful; as if he belonged in her head and guarded everything she was inside. She gazed at him, her heart threatening to break and bring tears to her eyes. He caught the expression as it crossed her face, saw himself in her head as a quiet, shadowed protector and his fingers brought her down to him. She went willingly, bringing her mouth to his and requiring him to return the desire, the desperate need she had for him. He did so, his other hand leaving her fingers against his hearts and taking hold of her fiercely by the waist.

_All I've ever wanted to do was protect you._

Hearing his words in her head, she began to rock against him, bringing him to break the kiss slightly as he inhaled almost in a gasp. She pulled her head back from his slightly, watching the expression shift across his face as she moved, as she lifted herself and settled back down around him. His head had fallen back to the surface of his bed, his chest rising against hers and she lifted a bit more to steady herself in the movement. Within a moment she had a rhythm and it did not take him long to catch up, to push past the initial feeling of her and then demand more. Always more. She reached for his mouth once again, wanting to feel his kiss, to feel the heat of his tongue. As he met her, she allowed a soft sound to break from her lips. He mirrored the sound, his hand urging her to continue, his fingers digging almost painfully into the nape of her neck even as his arm bent into her back. His thoughts were everywhere, becoming incoherent, jumbled. He wanted her to hurry but he never wanted it to end. He felt hot and cold at the same time, all over, and he was marveling at the scent of summer in her hair, coming from her skin. She broke from the kiss as she pushed herself to move faster, to meet his thrust, feeling herself moisten once more around him. He was well aware of how her body was reacting to him-

_Quite favorably…_

And she shushed him aloud and mentally, still giggling nonetheless as she quickened her pace, as she managed to push all quips and jokes from the forefront of his mind. The humor fell away, a clear idea coming forth. There was no time for jokes, not then and not tonight.

_We have all of time for that_, she whispered mentally. When he didn't respond to that she found herself slowing, moving to search his face.

The expression on his face was heartbreaking, his dark eyes lifting to meet hers. As she paused to question him, to search his thoughts, he closed himself off once more, bringing her to stiffen worriedly. "What-"

Wordlessly, his arms tightened around her, dragging her to him suddenly. She saw in his head what he was about to do before he did it and a moment later he had turned both their figures, rolling her under him forcefully. The movement still caught her by surprise though and she began to speak again before he silenced her with a long, pained kiss.

_What is it?_

His mouth left hers only for a moment. "It doesn't matter," he murmured against her lips.

"It matters to me," she whispered, her hands clutching him by his face and jaw, searching his eyes.

"Don't let it," he replied and now there was a slight note of pleading in his voice. "Let this be all that matters. Right now. Let this be it."

She hesitated still, not understanding and not able to decipher anything from his silent thoughts. All she could read was his desire and his utter need for her then. With an inward agreement, she curled toward him, bringing her lips back to his. He accepted the kiss in relief, parting his mouth to hers and with the approval he dragged her close to his frame, pushing himself deep inside of her. She broke in the midst of the kiss to gasp against his mouth and he thrust once more, pulling out and shoving into her almost painfully, achingly.

_Yes. Yes-_

They didn't know which one whispered it, which one uttered it. All that mattered then was needing more, moving forward. She wrapped an arm tightly around his neck, moving from his kiss to press the side of her head to his, her other hand dropping to the bed behind her for support. His hands fell away as well, one to the bed at her side, the other to her hip as he rocked against her for an instant. The touch of him against her center brought a slow moan from her, her mind stilling in blissful silence for a moment as she allowed herself to merely feel. That was the sensation there, and now he knew it as well.

Moving slowly at first, he tested her, aware through their connection what satisfied her, what left her desiring more. And once he had the rhythm, he began to move faster, the brush of him becoming a caress and then a steady rub, a dawning friction. Her hand dug into his hair, fingers almost becoming talons as he began to hit the spot just right, as she began to feel the stir of flames once more. She moaned against his ear, dropping her lips to the spot below his ear, brushing her mouth along his skin. A shiver coursed through him and he recoiled from it, unwilling to allow her to distract him. Because now that she was reacting, he wanted to see her finish, wanted to hear her say his name and cry, aloud and in his head. He moved against her, pushing himself deeper and deeper with every thrust, attempting to reach farther. She shifted around him, her legs tightening against his hips, feeling his every movement rock her against the bed. She loved the sensation, the feeling of being free. She was wet around him, feeling him slide in and out, and she began to push herself into him just as he would thrust into her, her heart pounding loudly.

_Oh, please…_

That had definitely been her this time as she said it mentally, as she pleaded it against his ear before tightening herself around him. She was so very close and she could feel him holding himself back because he wanted her to peak first. She pushed herself forcefully against his every thrust, prolonging it just that bit more, tightening and releasing with each movement. She was going to drive him to climax first if she continued it but she couldn't make herself stop now that she had started. Not now that she was close enough to shiver, to taste it on her lips and tongue.

"Rose-"

_Please, please, please._

He said her name again, his hearts pounding, a grimace crossing his face and she didn't care. She urged him to move faster quietly, afraid that if she spoke any louder it would be to scream and that she wouldn't stop until she came apart around him. She was sure he wouldn't mind it but the last thing she wanted was to push him over the edge when he was struggling quite so much to remain in control. She stiffened slightly as his hand on her hip shifted across the soft skin of her waist, dipping low. And then the tip of his thumb brushed against her core just as he met her in one hard thrust and she felt herself break, her entire body going rigid.

There was nothing but the flash of white in her mind, the complete absence of words, merely a sensation that was hot and cold at the same time, searing her and bringing her skin to break into gooseflesh. And she was aware then that she was shouting out loud, half crying his name and half whimpering it against his ear. His shoulders were stiffening against her, his hand having curled painfully against her belly, his breathing labored. She cursed with a groan, attempting to find herself again through the heat that was erupting from her and she mindlessly tightened her legs around him, pulling him deep inside of her once more. "Keep going-"

He pulled out of her quickly, as far as her legs would allow him before repeating the movement, pushing as far in as he could go. She was heaving against him, tightening and releasing erratically and it was only a matter of moments now before he fell apart as well. Her inner thoughts mirrored his dimly and he couldn't seem to make any sense of anything anymore, only aware of that peak he was striving for, that was within reach. He shoved into her, sliding inside cleanly now that she was completely slick all around him and then pulling out. Her scent hovered all around him, her breath hot against his ear, her fingers tangled in his hair and pulling, urging. Begging. Pushing her down fully to the bed, he shoved into her roughly, his hearts beating madly, reaching just that little bit more.

"Keep-"

He didn't hear the rest of her cry for she tightened just the slightest bit in the waves of her orgasm, her knees against his sides. Deep inside, he felt himself shatter, his breath catching in his chest. Then he fell, coming apart utterly and completely between her legs, all strength leaving him. He came inside of her, a sound trailing out from him into a pained moan, his mind wonderfully silent. Beneath him, she was only then coming down herself, her breathing no longer in sync with his. He lowered himself to her slowly, carefully and she accepted his weight wordlessly, her fingers uncurling from his damp hair.

He didn't know how long they stayed curled around each other, listening to the other breathe. He was aware after several minutes though that she hummed in her mind, her fingertips brushing through his hair almost absentmindedly. But they were content, the two of them. He felt it himself and he could feel it coming off her in warm waves.

"You're thinking too much now," she whispered against his ear, her breath tickling him.

He blinked against her cheek, unwilling to move ever again. "Am I?" he asked her faintly, wearily.

"Yeah," she replied. As he rose slightly from her to meet her eyes, she was smiling softly. "But you're also…humming. Not…like a song. But your thoughts, your…your skin. It feels like it's humming."

"As do you," he said with a small tilt to his head.

"I like it," she murmured almost shyly.

"Me, too," he agreed quietly. His eyes reflected his words and he bent his head to kiss her slowly, languidly. She returned his kiss as best as she could but he could feel her weariness deep inside. How very typical of humans.

"Oi. I think that's biological. Not like I can help being tired after what just happened," she said with a soft laugh.

He pulled his head back to eye her. "I think you've taken quite enough strolls through my mind, Rose Tyler," he said to her in a playfully firm tone.

She smiled. "Not nearly enough," she disagreed.

His eyes shifted from hers down to her mouth and then back toward her eyes. He didn't reply to that, instead lifting his hand to brush her hair from her forehead. "It's ok to go to sleep," he said instead.

She gazed at him, her lips tightening into a firm line momentarily. "Will you be here when I wake up?" she asked him and he detected the slight tremor in her voice, the humming in her head falling away.

He responded after a long pause. "Yes. I will be here when you wake up," he promised her.

It was only when his words rang true through both their heads that she began to fall asleep. He watched the images in her head as she fell away, smiling faintly, curled around her lazily. Wonderful, colorful images that would become dreams. Her visions dragged him slowly into sleep as well and he knew he would dream of moonlit nights in summer, or the colors of summer twilight and the scent of flowers.

And just as he fell asleep, a golden flash of light crossed her dreams of summer days and winter nights.

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**Next Chapter - Chapter Forty-One - The Wolf at the Door:**

Shaking his head, carrying her scent with him, he left his bedroom with that thought and made for the console room, one very last trip in mind now.

He had found _her_ in the console room.


	42. The Wolf at the Door

**A/N: **Ok so for everyone reading and following along, this is the chapter that will make sense out of everything that has been going on in the fic. This one and the next one, actually. I'm updating early because tomorrow is my last day of the workweek for me (I have off on Friday) and I know for a fact it will be a hectic day tomorrow so better to be safe than sorry. Thank you all for reviewing, for setting the fic to alert or favorite and an all around thank you to everyone for just READING. This chapter is the one that made the fic worth it and every time you guys review it just makes me grateful that I saw this fic through to the end. So please enjoy and if you guys are angry with me by the end...I'm glad you don't all know where I live, LOL!

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**Chapter Forty-One - The Wolf at the Door:**

To convince the TARDIS to even make the trip had been difficult in the end. She had been almost temperamental but he understood the reason for it. She had been warning him in that golden vibration of sound that was all her own voice.

_This is not right,_ she whispered._ You should not go there, Time Lord. _

_I have to be there,_ he replied. _You know it and I know it. Which is why in the end you will allow me to be there. You and I both know if I was not meant to be there you would send me to the end of the world, to the beginning of time. We both know this._

The TARDIS had become telepathically quiet at that. She understood him. Almost like a wounded lover, she had fallen silent in face of his words.

And so he had stolen out of his bed in the dark stillness and had dressed himself. Gazing down at Rose where she slept unmoving, now relaxed, he hadn't been able to help himself. Leaning toward her, he had brushed his lips against her bare shoulder, had inhaled her scent to carry it with him. He had even touched the tip of his tongue to her skin to hold the taste of her. He realized he loved the feel of someone else, of another body beside him in bed, bowing his head beside her shoulder. No, not someone else. Of _her_ beside him in bed. When he had awoken within hours of their affair, he had lain in bed and thought of that over and over.

Shaking his head, carrying her scent with him, he left his bedroom with that thought and made for the console room, one very last trip in mind now.

He had found _her_ in the console room.

There was a golden glow about her, a strange wind following her every gesture, her every glance. She stood facing the console, her back to the hallway door. Even as the red lights of the TARDIS began to flicker, she waved a hand dismissively in the air and the lights ceased, falling away.

He opened his mouth to speak and found he could not.

"It has been a long time…my Doctor," she said softly, her back to him, her head bowed to the controls as she swept her eyes over them silently.

Her blond hair was longer than he remembered, and longer than he had last seen it when in this form. Even his eyes, staring at her widely, were new to this vision. His eyes had been blue the last time he had gazed upon this creature, such a long time ago, even for him. He waited on the floor below the step leading up to the console, stricken rigidly to his place.

She turned ever so slowly, elegantly, and she did glow still, from her eyes and her very skin. The eyes that were turned on him were Rose's, but the creature behind those golden irises was not. And yet, even though he could recognize the face and the voice, he could not see Rose there anymore. He had seen this person in the memories of the blond girl, his daughter from another time. This creature before him was not even the Bad Wolf he had encountered in his past, the being that had saved him that day on Satellite 5. He felt his eyes float over her form, streaking up ever so slowly toward her face and then become tangled in her gaze helplessly. The heart of the TARDIS, looking back at him over a chasm of something that he did not understand.

"You don't look surprised to see me," she murmured tonelessly as he merely stared at her futilely. "I suppose…you knew I would be around."

Even her voice settled his stomach coldly, icily. Monotonous in itself and yet the power within almost threatened to beat him down to the floor. He swallowed thickly, fighting past the lump that had formed in the middle of his throat. "I knew…of you. _Know_…of you. From someone you've come up against."

"Jenny." Her voice stated she knew her answer was fact and that there was no purpose in disputing it. "Yes. I…ran into her before making my way here." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes training on him before darting back the way he had come, to the door that led to the rooms of the TARDIS hidden deep within. The expression stated she knew a secret, one that made him uncomfortable. "I had some time…to kill."

Staring at her, his lips parting in horror at her words, he asked numbly, "You killed her? Even after everything?" The sudden implication of it spun his world, spun _him_ almost into dizziness at their meaning, at their revelation.

If the Bad Wolf was here, the same Bad Wolf of his future, then everything that had transpired since he'd been visited by his daughter was still on course to the creation of this Bad Wolf. Everything that had happened on the console, all the thoughts, the warnings and all the memories, all of it still led to the same future. And he had questioned it before, Rose Tyler's connection to his daughter. He had jumped to the conclusion that Rose had been her mother. But what kind of mother would kill her own child? Even with the heart of the TARDIS concealed within her frail human form, Rose Tyler had done everything out of love. The day of the Dalek extermination on Satellite 5, she had come back to him to rescue him because she had not wanted harm to come to him. He refused to believe that she would do all this, even kill her own child. Rose Tyler would have found another way. Rose Tyler would have-

"I did not kill her," she was saying before him in the same still tone. As he looked at her once more, his hearts still caught in mid-beat, she corrected him further. "I _erased_ her. From this timeline."

His frozen hearts dropped into the trenches of his icy stomach, his breath strangling in his throat even as a small sound escaped him helplessly. He would not allow panic to settle in. He wouldn't. He _couldn't_. But even his respiratory bypass system was attempting to take control and failing miserably.

"She wasn't supposed to have existed, you must know. You must _understand,"_ the Bad Wolf was saying still, speaking a bit more quickly now. "The girl you encountered should never have existed in that way. The correct timeline was altered, was forced to branch. And this is what it branched into," she explained. As he forced himself to focus on her, she looked up and away from him. Her smoky golden eyes lifted to the ceiling of the TARDIS as she turned slightly and motioned about. "This is what became of such…a _grand_ love. Such an ambitious attempt to preserve that which would have corrected itself all in its own time."

He turned his eyes to follow her gestures, swallowing thickly. "What do you mean? Explain yourself."

She turned to him once more at his dark tone, her blond hair almost floating. As she gazed at him again her eyes softened, tiny pinpricks of gold in the depths of her pupils. "Ah. My Doctor. My Oncoming Storm," she murmured, observing him intently. "The man present at the beginning of time. At the end of the universe. The one who can open the TARDIS doors with…a simple thought. A snap of his fingers." She lifted her hand, her fingers positioned to snap though she did not carry out the gesture. "And the one who can break a girl's heart with…a mere look. The turn of his _back._" Her expression almost seemed to turn mischievous, a bite in her tone as she spoke. "There you are."

He waited for her, his jaw clenched firmly, his hearts beating loudly enough he was sure that she could hear it. His eyes followed her as she took a small step and then another, floating almost in a haze of golden dust, and she had always been beautiful but this beauty here-

"_Was she…was __I__…was that what I looked like? Was I that…horrible?"_

Rose's voice came to him, small and shaky at the back of his head. She had been right all along. It was unholy, that beauty. Otherwordly.

"I haven't seen you in a long time," she continued softly, her head tilting. Her eyes became hooded slightly as she cocked her head back to look down at him. "Your face…is the same as I remember it but there was more…once upon a time, I suppose."

He said nothing.

She took another step and now she was directly before him, a step above still, forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at her. Pausing before him, she hesitated, looking as if she wanted to say something to him, something specific. But then it was gone and she simply lifted a hand slowly, fingers straightening toward him.

He merely blinked slowly, his face becoming blank as she nudged aside a lock of his dark hair with her index finger gingerly, pushing it along his forehead and setting it beside his temple. The same finger trailed faintly along the bone of his cheek and slipped lower, dipping into the hollow beneath, and then down to his jaw. "I…remember this face," she murmured, her eyes trained on her fingers, following it with a dead gaze. "As if through a haze, I remember this face. Has it been so long? No. Only moments…" She seemed lost for an instant, her eyes distracted. A second later she composed herself, refocusing. "I remember the face before it as well. Such strong structure. Perfect, almost."

"You're not her anymore," he said to her, his voice soft and slowly releasing the pain within. His eyes darted across hers and then down to her mouth as her lips parted at his words. "You're not Rose Tyler. You're the Bad Wolf only now."

Her finger hesitated at the corner of his lips.

His eyes trailed down the side of her face, his own hand itching to move. "How long have you had this body-"

"I am Rose Tyler," she cut him off heatedly as if his few words had built up anger inside of her. He was brought to an abrupt silence in the face of that irritation. "I am everything Rose Tyler ever felt and wanted, everything she had ever desired. And I am the Bad Wolf. I am the heart of the TARDIS concealed in a human form. I am the beginning. The present. The end. Everything in between. I am Time. I am your Blue Box. I am…everything _you_ have ever wanted and desired as well-"

"No." His reply was curt. "I never wanted this of Rose. _For_ Rose. I never wanted this for her. And _you_ are _not_ Rose Tyler," he snapped at her darkly, head bowing, eyes becoming angry and his words sharpening into weapons. "With your sins and your past tenses. '_Everything she had ever desired.'_ What she _felt_ and what she _wanted_. As if she was dead."

He reached out and grasped the creature above him, his fingers curling around her arms tightly and causing surprise to streak across her beautiful face. "I wanted-" And he suddenly realized his hearts were breaking as he shook the fair-haired woman before him, ignoring her as she flared with golden light. His frame became rigid, throbbing with pain and sorrow, a thick agony. "I wanted her to be _happy._ I wanted her to…to-"

"What I felt for you…" she whispered and she froze him in his tracks, her lips parted. They were a darker gold than her skin, her eyes blazing a pale brown with the spark at their core. "I-"

"Don't say it," he uttered and he took that step up to meet her, forcing her back a bit, now gazing down at her from so close. Close enough to feel the immense heat she emanated and to remember it as if he burned with it still.

She returned his aching stare, her shoulders drawn up under his firm hands. "I-"

"Please," he pleaded through clenched teeth, his eyes widening as he gazed at her. "Don't say it. If you say it you ruin everything she ever was to me, everything she ever said to me. Because you are _not_ her." He shook his head as he growled it, his shoulders beginning to shudder. "You're not her. You're…"

"An echo," she said for him softly. Her glow flared for a moment faintly as she looked up at him from a hairsbreadth away, her ghostly breath mixing with his. "Nothing more."

"Nothing more," he agreed, his fingers weakening on her arms the slightest bit.

They gazed at each other for a long silent while, both of them somehow heaving from an exertion that was not physical. For a moment he almost leaned down toward her, feeling the need to experience her deep inside, to suffer her golden light. He had taken the TARDIS heart into himself once, only once. It had been to save the very person before him, the person sleeping in his bed at the moment, in this time. He remembered the intense heat, such a raging heat that it had burned him up from the inside and had slaughtered him. And he would do it again for her. He would take the heart out of her except he had nowhere to store it anymore. His current TARDIS was in possession of her own heart. There was nowhere for him to place this golden heart here.

As he gazed at the Bad Wolf he realized that she understood that. His lips parted, his fingers tightening on her arms once more with an almost uncanny strength. "Why are you here?" he demanded, his eyes trailing from her eyes down to her lips before darting back up.

She returned his gaze, her eyes darkening. "I've nowhere else to go."

The Doctor felt himself recoil at her words, his eyes widening. "What?"

Her face softened, her skin golden. "I've nowhere to return to," she said quietly. "I've destroyed everything of my time. Your future…is broken. Empty. Erased."

His eyes became distant at her words, his lips moving silently for a moment. "That's not…possible…" he murmured.

The Bad Wolf shifted in his arms and he suddenly released her as she shook him off almost gently. "It's very possible. It's done. There is nothing left of it. And the cracks are all reaching backward through time, the remaining timeline falling apart at the seams." She took a step back from him, turning away. "You must understand. It was all…wrong."

He turned his head to look at her at her tone, as her voice faltered slightly. For a small moment she had become his Rose. The pain in her voice, the confusion. He shuddered as he felt her then, as he suddenly seemed to taste her scent on his tongue. For that one complete moment he had been assaulted by the absolute presence of his Rose. Rose breaking through the face that was that of the Bad Wolf's.

"Rose," he uttered weakly, his own frame almost refusing to sustain him.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder as he whispered her name painfully. "Yes," she replied, her eyes shimmering. She faced him once more slowly, her eyebrows drawing up in the middle, her frown giving way to sorrow. "I am Rose Tyler."

"Rose," he said yet again softly. Even as she parted her lips to say it, to repeat that she was still Rose Tyler, he moved toward her, his hands lifting to clasp her golden face. He raised her head with trembling fingers to kiss her, to draw her against him. This time he kissed her, not to take the heart into himself but one kiss to remind himself of how she tasted. Of how this Rose Tyler felt as opposed to his own Rose. She allowed him, seemed to _need_ him, her figure pressing to his as he held her, grief flowing from him into her. Even his caress was mournful, his shoulders stiffening almost to a painful point. He needed her desperately, the girl that had saved him so long ago, who had risked her _everything_ for him that day on Satellite 5. The girl who had come back for him, who had taken something powerful into herself because she hadn't known what else to do to save her Doctor. Because she had been afraid and heartbroken and hadn't wanted to leave him. He needed _her_. That girl. He needed her more than he needed the very timeline he struggled to maintain.

She slept in his bed at that moment. She was hidden somewhere in the body that this creature before him inhabited. And that same girl had been left behind on a beach in another time that wasn't his, in another place that was not a part of his world. She had been left on a cold, gray beach almost a year before.

_"Don't do this. Don't leave me there-"_

He ripped away from the Bad Wolf then, Rose's frantic voice in his head, a conversation ringing in his ears. But not one he'd ever held with her, not this version of him. His head dropped as if he had been wounded, as if her golden light had burned him, his hands tearing away from her. Then, eyes widening, he lifted his gaze to her and she was sorrowful, her figure shimmering. He didn't know where that vision had come from, where those words originated from, but they hadn't been his.

"I told you once, years ago. I see everything. I hear everything, am witness to so much. Even things you do not realize," she whispered and her lips, even as they moved with her words, were bruised from his kiss. Her breath did not catch the way his did but he sensed from her that she had been moved by him, by his need. She bowed her head a bit, catching his gaze as he recoiled from her even further. "I see broken timelines as well. I see futures, pasts. And I see…"

He stared at her as she broke off, as she hesitated, his confusion blossoming as she spoke.

"I have seen the beach. I can feel the cold and I taste the salty water in the air. I taste the grief," she whispered as he frowned at her, as he struggled to hold on to the vision that had played across his mind's eye for the smallest moment in her kiss. A vision of Rose on the gray beach, her shoulders hunching in as she had bowed her head into her palms and had wept, hazy sunlight streaming down on her through thick clouds. "We've had so many arguments, you and I. Have been here so many times before. And you've seen it as well now, caught a glimpse of it. It was a mistake. I was not meant to show that to you. You were not meant to see that-"

"I can change things," he murmured rapidly, needing her to see, needing his words to be true. "I can change things. I can fix them if you'll help me understand what all this is. I'll fix it, I _can-"_

She gazed at him as if her heart broke within her at his words. The expression cut his words off, brought him to a quivering stop. Slowly, gently, she returned to him, her hand lifting to his face. He closed his eyes as her fingers pressed to his cheek, her warm palm cupping his jaw. Silently he tilted his head into her hand, exhaling wearily as he understood himself.

"You can't change them anymore. Not in this branching line. It's gone too far, too long." She lifted her head, her eyes trailing across his features and he felt the heat of her gaze as it passed over his features as if she branded him. "And no one can blame you. Not for what has happened."

He frowned gently, his lips moving to part.

"My Doctor," she murmured. At her possessive term for him, his eyes opened and Rose gazed back at him, her smile curling her lips faintly. "My lonely Doctor."

He returned her stare, his dark eyes darting back and forth between hers, seeing her so deep in those hazel summer eyes. Seeing everything they had ever been together, everything they had ever meant to each other. All those moments they had spent together, running hand in hand. He saw city lights behind her eyes, of a cold night not too long ago that she had left the TARDIS to walk in miserable silence, to lose herself in the city. To see a couple running and remembering when she had run with her Doctor. That same night, a vision of her Doctor finding her, of _him_ finding her in the park on a bench and tripping over words to express what he felt for her. Such a long time ago.

And visions of a human man named John Smith. Of John Smith falling in love with his maid, of not understanding why she couldn't love him in return. He had been a simple man, this John Smith. But he had loved her with all his heart and she had still denied him, denied his kiss, his very affection. He had realized why later, but only once John Smith had reverted back into the Doctor. John Smith would not have understood her denial, the reasons she had always turned from him. The Doctor, however, had. Looking back on that now he realized how foolish he had been, pushing away this girl who had been at his side for so long.

"You…know," he whispered, a frown creasing his forehead.

She nodded faintly. "I was there. I am her. The girl that was there through it all, at your side, she is me. We are the same."

He stared at her, assessing her words, her very manner. Rose Tyler as the Bad Wolf. The Bad Wolf as Rose Tyler. One would always circle into the other. This version of Rose Tyler would always be destined to be the Bad Wolf. There was never going to be another end for her. "But…you…you're-"

She smiled softly, knowingly. "Paradox personified," she whispered. She raised her eyes, lifting them to the ceiling of the TARDIS and then letting them float over everything in the console room. "It's the great question, isn't it?" she mused. "If the Bad Wolf was created on Satellite 5 because of mere words recognized throughout London, Cardiff, in the past, in the future…then who is the creator?"

He frowned at her. "_I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself,'_" he said quietly, echoing her words from such a long time ago.

Her eyes seemed to gleam. "Yes. I create myself once more. One endless loop through time. But only in this timeline."

The Doctor's expression turned questioning. "It's the same timeline. The same-"

The woman before him lifted her hand, causing him to recoil faintly. But she did nothing except wave her palm over his eyes, a single gesture.

He felt it then as if a block had been before him, hindering his vision. He felt his eyes widen, felt his mind clear. The clarity gave way to anger as he looked around his console, as he saw everything he had not seen before. The console room was shifting in and out of being, red light flashing erratically from the core. To his right he caught the smallest glimpses of the world outside the TARDIS as if no wall existed there and he saw the people of London. Then the air shimmered and the wall was there once more. To his left, as he turned his head, the TARDIS doors burst open and he saw the faintest image of Jack Harkness, dirty and bloodied, a rifle in hand as he entered the TARDIS and merely rested against the door wearily. A moment after that he faded away into nothingness, leaving the Doctor heaving in confusion.

"What have you done to me?" he asked the Bad Wolf frantically.

"See it and hear it for what it is at last," she ordered him. "See the timelines cross. See the tears and their consequences. See everything. Let the wall fall from you."

And it did. The mere weight of the damage threatened to consume him as all around he saw just what was happening at last. The images that Rose must have been catching glimpses of all this time, magnified by his ability to see futures and pasts. He gaped, seeing visions of Martha Jones as a ghostly version of her appeared beside him suddenly, laughing at something he couldn't see or hear. He recoiled as he watched her, grasping her image in his head and holding onto it as she turned on her heel and floated off to the back rooms of the TARDIS. Only to have Donna Noble emerge suddenly, holding a deep purple dress in her hand and mouthing a question in his direction, one he couldn't understand because he heard mental voices as well, as if he had linked himself telepathically with every person appearing in his console room.

"Did you never wonder?" the golden woman before him asked, observing him as he stared at Donna, as he heaved erratically at the information overload. Her voice was fluid, gentle, as he strained rigidly in contrast against everything happening around him. She seemed unaffected by it all, even as Donna came up the ramp, phasing completely through the golden woman as if she didn't exist. Passing through _him_ as if he hadn't physically stood there. "Did you never question it?" The Bad Wolf asked him. "Why you couldn't see the things she saw? The things…_I_ saw? Did you never wonder what it is she ran from, always?"

He shuddered from Donna's incorporeal form, understanding then deep inside. He saw her truth in her words. "All those lives…" he uttered, shaking his head, eyes trained on Donna over his shoulder as she vanished into nothingness. "All those mistakes." He swallowed, his throat dry. "H-how…are you even here?" he whispered, shaking his head in confusion.

She tilted her head slightly, eyes moving around the room once more. The shifting of the TARDIS was echoed in her eyes, flashing across those amber irises. Behind her he appeared suddenly, a double of himself standing before the console. He threw his head back as regeneration energy burst from his figure, lighting the room gold. "I created myself," she was answering him from a distance, seemingly well aware of what was occurring behind her. "And in doing so, I corrupted the TARDIS. I have-"

"You can't corrupt the TARDIS," he cut her off, staring at the image of his double as he vanished away before his regeneration had been completed. "You _are_ the TARDIS. Right now! Currently, as the Bad Wolf, you _are_ the TARDIS! The energies of the heart, in a human form-"

"I am unfinished," she said faintly. "I was interrupted from consuming the entire heart. By your future self."

He stared at her, lips parted.

With a small sigh coming from her lips, she reached out toward him. He fought himself from shying away, instead holding himself still as she pressed a gentle fingertip to the middle of his forehead.

His eyes shut instinctively as a vision swirled to life before him, a vision of a wavering figure standing before the TARDIS console, the heart spilling out into the room. A vision of Rose, head thrown back as the energies of the time vortex overwhelmed her. A vision of a second figure appearing, his frame blocking the light of the vortex. Angrily, the second figure took hold of Rose by the shoulder and shoved her backward with inhuman strength, flinging her aside as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. She crashed to the grated floor of the console with a muffled shout, wincing. And even as the second figure closed the hatch to the heart of the TARDIS, he recognized himself. But he did not recognize the wild expression on his double's face, the fury that became sorrow as he whirled toward Rose on the floor.

Neither did she, it seemed to him, as she scampered away from him on her hands and rear, golden light flaring from her eyes, from her very form. His double had taken all of a single step toward her before she dissipated into golden smoke and vanished from the console room.

"My abilities as the Bad Wolf are hampered," the woman explained to him when he opened his eyes once more, and her own eyes flared as if the fact angered her. "I am, for lack of a better word, incomplete."

The Doctor lifted a hand to his hair, his wide eyes blank. Searching the room blindly at a loss for words, he could only shake his head in question. "How…did any of this come to pass?" he murmured. A moment later the images were suddenly there then, his mind seeing it all. "Oh. Oh…"

The Bad Wolf merely gazed at him silently. But behind her appeared a hazy vision of her double, her glowing eyes burning with fury as the console room seemed to shift, forming the obscure image of a TARDIS hallway. He could still see the core of his own TARDIS through the likeness of the corridor, his mind threatening to burn.

_"You think you can hurt me?"_ her double raged in the corridor, glowing powerfully, beams of golden lights scattering like light across a diamond's edge. Drawing away from her was a copy of the blond girl he had seen in the alleyway of the Powell Estates, his daughter. Another figure appeared at his daughter's side, the spitting image of him, pushing her slight frame behind his to stand before the golden vision of the woman as she shouted at them. _"You can't even touch me!"_

Sheer terror racing up and down his spine at being witness to something he was never meant to see, he whispered, "Outside of space and time. Outside the timeline, just at the edge of the void. That's where you reside. Where you hide yourself. And you knew. All this time and you knew."

Before him, her furious double vanished away, taking the TARDIS corridor and the images of himself and his daughter. The Bad Wolf cocked her head in disagreement at his words, seemingly quite aware of everything going on around her. "Not…the entire time, no," she replied slowly.

"No," he said a moment later in accord, another piece falling into place. "Another paradox. Knowing something because you created it. Because it, in turn, created you with the knowledge. But you knew before the rest of us…did-" He suddenly squeezed his eyes shut, wincing, wishing to do away with the image of the mad Bad Wolf. A growl came from him and he lifted his hands to his face, rubbing it furiously. "What have you done? This entire…" his voice died off. Every image in his mind was _burning, _stripping him of the ability to speak. There were suddenly too many of them for him to make any sense of and he let out a small sound as he tried to sort it out, to make sense of it.

She waited for him, her glow lighting the TARDIS floor she stood on, brilliant dust streaming from her.

"You…created a paradox machine," he whispered in disbelief, catching a vision and holding onto it. He staggered back a step as he looked at her, every single part of him needing, _demanding, _to be away from her then. "You created it with the remaining energy you left in the TARDIS. _My_ TARDIS! You returned and you corrupted her! You-" He broke off, stiffening, seeing all the images then. All the outcomes, all the futures that he had never even realized existed. "You…_Oh!"_

She neared once more even as he lurched to get away from her. "The TARDIS and I are outside of time," she said to him and he detected the faint hint of desperation in her fluid voice. "When you came for me to the beach, you harnessed the massive energy of a hypernova. The paradox machine is using that energy now, the last traces of it, to maintain this branching timeline. This alternate timeline-"

_"Just let it collapse!"_ he shouted at her frantically, causing her to recoil. He hunched over with a pained growl, a hand pressing to his head as the images came faster, more furiously.

"I am not the deciding factor," she said to that rapidly, her tone pitching higher and become louder, her figure limp as he stumbled against the rails circling the console. "If I let this timeline collapse there will still be the gaping hole it branched from! The timeline will be open to the void and vice versa. Everything in the void will pass into that _timeline_-"

"No reapers," he muttered, wincing as he struggled to assimilate all the images assailing him. "There were never any reapers to fix the timeline, to…to-"

"_I_ am the reaper," she cut him off. "_I_ hold them at bay. _I_am sterilizing the wound, _attempting-"_

"That's why you're killing them. Erasing them," the Doctor whispered and he allowed the railing to maintain him wearily. Heaving for a single breath, he closed his eyes. He knew what he needed to do. He just needed to stop and allow himself to carry those visions, the same as he always did. There were just so many more of them now and they had all flooded into him much too quickly, with too much ferocity. Inhaling deeply, he forced his hearts to slow, his pulse to steady. He could control the visions, could control his thoughts. And even as he was whispering it to himself, he felt the images begin to fall away into the background, his rigid frame beginning to stabilize once more. Opening his eyes, aware that she waited for him still, he fixed her with a cold glare, attempting to remember the train of thought he'd had a moment before. "All those people who came back to see her, in the end _they_ were the wounds in time," he said slowly, haltingly. "Because…because-"

"He never knew," she said and her voice was pained. Lost. As the Doctor looked at her in confusion, she shook her head faintly. "It's why he kept sending them. He couldn't see what was happening because I didn't _allow_ him to see. Thinking he was changing the world around him, attempting to cause ripples in a pond. How do you cause a ripple when you stand still?" She shook her head once more, her tone almost apologetic but not quite. "He sent them back, one after the other, never realizing that all he was doing was reinforcing the timeline. Leading me to become the Bad Wolf. I became the Bad Wolf because they always came back with their warnings. Their _reassurances."_ Her voice became the slightest bit sardonic, her frame brimming with resonating gold dust. "She's already thought it. The Rose in this time. In your bed."

The Doctor lifted his head, his jaw clenching at the way she spoke of her former self. "She's been suffering, having dreams. Of the Bad Wolf. Of you-"

"Someone is always suffering. You can't help them all," she whispered mockingly, throwing words he'd only recently said to her back in his face.

His expression told her he'd had quite enough of her behavior and, surprisingly, she settled to listen. "Then the dream came true," he continued quietly. "When she went through the window. What-"

"An echo," the Bad Wolf replied swiftly. "An echo of a future trauma resounding backward in time to plague her. To plague _me_." And she lifted her hands before her face, gazing at the golden dust as it drifted around her skin. "That's where it happened. That day. The day of the window. Mere hours ago for you," she said to him easily. "On the floor, bleeding, and all I could do was stare at my hands. I didn't understand. But then I saw the picture, the child's drawing of little red riding hood and the wolf and that's when it happened. That's when my world shifted." Her golden eyes darted toward the door leading to the corridors, leading to his bedroom. "She's dreaming of it now, of her choice," she whispered eerily. "Planning. '_If I become the Bad Wolf again, I can fix it. Whatever is coming, I can fix it. Because I can't…go…back.'"_ The expression on her face betrayed her knowledge, her bitterness at her statement. "Once I was revived, I knew what needed to be done. A wound in time needed to be sterilized to prevent this all from happening. But which one?"

The Doctor glared at her angrily. "Shouldn't you have known?" he bit out wearily. "Shouldn't you have known which wound had caused it all?"

"I am incomplete," she said once more, coldly. "If I fix one wound another begins to crack the walls and bleed. But I need the TARDIS to maintain the paradox, to keep this timeline afloat as I sterilize the wounds. If I take more of her she will become an empty shell, useless. And, alone, I cannot do this-"

"You're a knock off," the Doctor said to her then, his face dark. "Not Rose Tyler and yet not the Bad Wolf. You're nothing but-"

The woman silenced him with one fluid gesture, her words sharp. "Be very careful, my Doctor. I would have no problem allowing this timeline to fall into the void to leave the original timeline it stems from _defenseless-"_

He was not to be threatened however. "It wouldn't be defenseless. The reapers would return to close the gap. They would-"

"There would be nothing for the reapers to fix," the Bad Wolf cut him off. "The original timeline would be complete, undamaged. Preserved. Except for the breaches left behind. Breaches you yourself created. Beyond that, the only threat would be the creatures in the void. There would be no wound to sterilize, no repair needed for the timeline-"

"Because the timeline would continue as it should have. As it was meant to," the Doctor whispered in understanding. "Just…with holes in its walls." He slumped wearily, understanding then. "But why?" he questioned weakly. "Why come here? To this place and time? Why not just repair the breaches where the timeline branched? Wouldn't that have saved us all trouble-"

"It was not my decision," she explained to him. "I do not make the decision to branch the timeline and I do not have the energy required to close the breaches anymore. Not so long as the TARDIS remains as a paradox machine."

The Doctor stared at her and then turned his head away to laugh mirthlessly. "You've created your own paradox all by yourself. Your second, in fact," he corrected with a shake of his head. "Recreating yourself with just enough power to maintain a mistaken timeline but not enough to fix it. And it's all for nothing! Because the second you-" He cut himself off then, not wishing to speak his next words.

The Bad Wolf settled into silence, watching him, knowing his words even though he had refused to speak them. "There is always an end," she murmured faintly. "Everything must come to an end."

He saw the truth in her words. He saw her fate there as well. She shimmered the way a golden goddess did, buzzing with what he could only call magic. But she was dying here, before his very eyes. That was the downside to having such power with a weak vessel harnessing it. "How long do you have?" he asked hollowly, feeling a cool numbness begin to rise from deep down. And no, he refused that iciness, refused to allow this to be one more thing he would brush off his shoulder. All humans and their meager life spans, all floating away in the blink of an eye. It was always the same thing but he refused to let this be one more thing he could turn away from easily.

At his question she smiled once more and she neared, her fingers reaching out to him. Tracing small designs against his unshaven jaw, she replied calmly, "A matter of moments now."

He felt himself tear at her words, his very fiber of being stretching taut. Mouth moving to speak and yet unable to, he merely made a small sound of confusion, a hand lifting in puzzlement. Why did it always come to this? Why did he always have to lose? "How long have you been awake?" he asked her faintly.

She didn't hesitate in response. "Thirty-nine minutes."

The Doctor stared at her, his lips parting. Of course. With a human form cradling the heart of the TARDIS, he couldn't have expected her to be much older than mere moments. But when one had a time machine in their possession, could travel through time by their own power, it was possible that she could have wreaked all her havoc within that given time frame. More than possible. Inevitable. "You've been…hopping around. Wiping people from the timeline. Trying to…fix it. When one obstacle was cleared, another made itself known based on those circumstances you had then created." He tilted his head, studying her achingly. "Doesn't your head hurt from it all?"

_"My head…is killing me."_

He remembered when she had said those words to him, her frame shivering, burning up before his still-blue eyes. He hadn't been about to allow it then. _"Come here. You need a Doctor."_

He couldn't say the same anymore. Not now. Not with everything so wrong.

The smile that came to her face was strained when she responded. "Every moment," she replied softly and her voice caught halfway through, tears shimmering in her eyes. "It burns more and more…_every…moment."_

His hearts clenched at her tone, at the pain that spasmed across her golden face. "Oh, Rose," he uttered, lifting a hand as if to reach for her. When he did touch her, his fingers passing across her jaw, gold dust seemed to trail away from her form, following his fingers. He curled his hand away slightly and the dust dissipated, leaving her skin dimmer. As if he had brushed a piece of her away. Staring at that part of her, he felt all other words tangle in his throat, in his chest, his brow drawing in sorrowfully. "Why did you come here, Bad Wolf?" he finally asked her quietly, his face still cradled in her palm, his hearts as well.

Her eyes fell a bit at his question, focusing on his collar thoughtfully. "I see…all outcomes, all futures. While you can only see events, moving from fixed point to fixed point, I can see everything. And here…now…this moment here changes the future. These moments here and the ones to follow tonight, these will seal off this fork in the road from its beginning. What I couldn't do, you will. After tonight, everything will revert to the one moment on the beach. It's where it all begins, after all. Where it all stems from. And from there everything will go as it was meant to."

The Doctor gazed at her. "The people? The deaths?" he asked her slowly, hesitantly, "My daughter?"

Her smile widened a bit. "You will see them again. For the first time. You will love them all. You will mourn them when they're gone. But when they go, it will be because it was meant to be. And after tonight you will not see _me_ again."

He hesitated. "The beach then. Bad Wolf Bay."

At the name, her smile was brilliant. "You'll know what to do after I leave tonight. You already had an idea after all, coming to the console tonight of all nights…after what has just transpired between us."

Her smile and words did nothing to comfort him, though they woke images of Rose in his arms and in his bed. "I can't leave her," he breathed through gritting teeth, his shoulders stiff. He motioned toward the door of the console room leading to the other rooms and floors of the TARDIS. "She doesn't deserve to be stranded in another world. It's _my_ fault. She doesn't deserve it-"

"No," the Bad Wolf agreed quietly, her fingers curling a bit to play against his cheek. "She doesn't. But the timeline is what it is. You have to be stronger than I was. All those errors I made because I didn't want to be apart from you…" She shook her head slightly, reprimanding herself by her expressions. "And you will see Rose Tyler again. She will find you again, Doctor." As she said it she looked up to meet his eyes, her face firm. "I promise you. I find you again."

He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek further into her palm. "You can't promise me that, Rose." Because suddenly she really was Rose once more behind the glow of the Bad Wolf. Those summer eyes and the love they held there, it was all Rose Marion Tyler.

Her face became the slightest bit sad. "I don't have to promise you that, Doctor. In another future, in another timeline, I've already done it and it has become fact." And her frame flickered suddenly, shimmering a brilliant gold for a moment. Then she faltered in his arms, her lips parting.

"Stay with me," he whispered quickly, his arms lifting to catch around her waist as her hand slipped a bit from his jaw. He grimaced, legs shifting under him to maintain both their weight together, and one arm slid free to take hold of the railing at his back. "Just stay with me. Tonight. For a few moments."

Her eyes unfocused fleetingly, darting around the console room in confusion. They slid shut for an instant, a breath catching in her throat even as he dragged her against him, supporting her fiercely.

"Rose. _Rose-"_ he growled at her through clenched teeth as he straightened to his feet, shaking her when she weakened further against him.

"It's so much," she whispered, grimacing faintly. She lifted her gaze all around, seeming to struggle to focus on anything. "So much. And this body…is _deteriorating_…"

"Don't go," he begged her and even as he did so he was sliding down to his knees, holding her frame to him, blinded by streaks of golden light that tore from her as she fell with him wearily. "Just…stay here with me. Stay for a bit. I won't bite, I promise-"

She laughed for a small moment, blinking rapidly. Her head bowed against his, her hands catching on his shoulders and tightening, attempting a grip.

"Just…stay," he pleaded hoarsely from a hairsbreadth away, gazing at her helplessly from such a close distance and yet feeling that somehow she was very far away. But even as he asked it of her, settling on his knees and clasping her frame to his, he felt it. He felt her power pulse, felt her look around once more, disoriented.

"It's all wrong," she murmured, her breath seeming stifled and she heaved for air against him. "This whole world. This whole…time. It's _wrong_. It's so wrong. But why is it wrong? Why is it wrong for me to be here? Why couldn't I just _stay?" _she grimaced, whispering faintly under her breath, almost rambling. "Oh, the beach. The beach-"

"I'll fix it," he promised her rapidly. His lips tightened into a firm line as he shifted his body to rest on his rear, one leg tucking under him, the other leg stretched out across the console floor. She allowed him, her own frame wearily falling limp in his arms and across his lap as he pulled her up against him. "You don't have to worry about any of that anymore, Rose. You just…just…" He inhaled shakily, gazing at her as she grimaced, her chest rising as she dragged in a rasping breath. "Just stay. Now. Stay now."

She was mumbling still, her eyes blinking quickly, her stare unfocused. "I had to fix it. I knew…I think I always knew. I just didn't…didn't want to believe. Because…because…" She closed her eyes tightly, her head shaking curtly for a moment as if shaking water from her hair. Shaking away an ugly memory. "Because I didn't _know_…how to fix it. No one did. And no one ever saw it…but me. Because it was the way I had created it. All those visions…people in the real timeline. Donna under the Thames. Martha on the moon. Jack…in Cardiff. _That_ was the truth. And all I could do was…think it unfair that I couldn't be with you anymore." She swallowed roughly, her words jumbled and tinged with regret. "They kept coming back to me…telling me about the threat that was coming for us. Never telling me _I_ was the threat. Never telling me _how_ to fix it but always reminding me that it was something I _could_ fix. Because I…_loved_ you so much. And I took the heart of the TARDIS at the end. The Bad Wolf. I didn't have the strength…the power…to _fix_ anything any other way. But as the Bad Wolf-"

He shushed her, one arm wrapped across her waist and around, the other cradling the back of her head as she pulsed with golden light.

"I erased them all…I loved them all but I had to erase them…because they had different memories…different lives than what had been meant for them. Even Jack. Even _Jack_. I took away his immortality. I took it away…" She gasped, her fingers curling into talons as golden light began to seep from her like a fine mist. "And Jenny…oh, Jenny…"

Swallowing thickly, his fingers tangling into the dark hair at the nape of her neck, he asked softly, "She's mine. Jenny. My daughter. But I see now. She isn't _ours._"

Her eyes slid back toward his, her lips parted, her breath coming through roughly. "No. Jenny is not…not human. She has only Gallifreyan blood in her." She brought her hand to his chest, her frame stiff. "The future is…is so…"

"Delicate," he whispered in understanding.

"Fragile," she said instead. "And it's all falling apart now. Now that…now that I won't exist." She shivered faintly, the golden mist curling about and slowly surrounding her now, light sparking in her eyes as she gazed at him. "The beach, Doctor. It all begins…it all ends…at the beach."

"The beach," he echoed her firmly.

"And the question," she said, staring at him.

"What question?" he asked her with a small frown. A moment later he shook her, watching her frantically as she heaved, the golden mist becoming thicker around her trembling frame. "Rose? What question-"

"The question…" she said once more slowly, as if speaking was too much of a strain. "She's going to ask…_I_ asked…to see you again. The question."

He gazed at her in silence for a moment, searching his memory for the question. Yes, he remembered her question on the beach, at the beginning of the end.

_"Am I ever going to see you again?"_

He had said yes to her and once he had said yes, he had begun to think of a way to bring her back to him, had gone away almost into silent captivity searching for a way. Remembering it now, he felt the sudden weight of what it all meant fall on him. "I won't ever see her again, will I?" he asked her then gently, numb with realization.

In his arms, the Bad Wolf settled a bit, her head turned to look up at him. As she spoke he began to realize that the mist was growing stronger, that her body was disappearing behind it. Vanishing away behind that fine golden dust.

"She will find her way back to you one day." Her smile was suddenly soft and wistful. "Two o'clock in the morning, taking that taxi home. That life, that adventure. She'll bring it to you."

The Doctor stared at her, his lips parted in question at her words, not understanding.

She shook her head at his confusion. And then she resigned herself to merely gaze at him tenderly.

He understood wordlessly then. It would all work itself out soon. She was leaving it to him to finish. Once her human form passed away, the piece of heart would dissipate as well, leaving nothing but a paradox machine outside of time, recycling the remaining energy of a hypernova to maintain this mess of a timeline. Until it, too, ran out of power with no Time Lord to serve.

Pressing his lips together in a wistful smile, he lifted his hand away from her waist and brought a finger to her face, dragging an errant blond lock from her cheek. She tilted her head along his hand, across his arm as he shifted to cradle her closer. The gold dust fell from her silently, floating away as he ran his finger across her jaw. And he understood that there was nothing left of Rose Tyler's mortal form. Now that there was no vessel left to contain the heart of the future TARDIS, it was dissipating as well, vanishing into nothing in his own TARDIS. He bowed his head slightly as he realized he could see his other hand clear through her shoulder, through the golden glow.

"I think…" she whispered softly, gazing at him, "I was always meant to be left on a beach. In bloody Norway." She laughed faintly, easily.

"Oh," he replied to that quietly, almost absentmindedly. "I'll only do it to you once." He felt his voice catch at his words, at their implication. But he pushed it aside, all of it, composing his voice lightly for her. "I promise."

She continued to gaze at him, a secret now peeking out from behind her smile. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Doctor. That's not like you." Her breath was soft, her words strangely ominous. But even as he went to question her, he felt a flash of warmth and a glimpse of light through his thoughts. A vision of Rose on that beach, dressed differently now. Blue jacket, dark pants and a purple shirt. Her hand was caught in his grip as he gazed down at her in a blue suit, standing next to her. He had seen that image before, as John Smith. And he still didn't understand it but he realized that he didn't need to. Not anymore. He stared down at the Bad Wolf entity in his arms and her eyes fluttered, her lips parting.

His grip tightened helplessly, wishing to hold on to her, to feel her warmth. But even as he gripped her firmly, his fingers curled into fists, slipping clear through her. Barely any of her was tangible and he quickly lowered what he could of her to the TARDIS floor, holding himself over her as she settled wearily, weakly.

"Rose-"

"It's warm," she murmured, her eyes flickering to remain open, her figure pulsing. "'s so warm. Like a blanket. Like…one of your hugs…"

He bowed his head at her words, breathing hoarsely against her jaw, his fists clenching in silent pain. And he realized he almost wanted to sob with the way his breath was leaving him; abruptly, his lungs and throat constricting painfully.

"Doctor."

At her last word he lifted his head, his eyes coming open. She gifted him with one final smile before she vanished suddenly and completely into a golden dust, dissolving away into the air and scattering into nothingness like a scent on a warm summer day.

He stared at the grated TARDIS floor, his lips parted, his eyes straining almost to the point of blurred vision. And he couldn't convince himself that the rising tears were from that effort. He couldn't convince himself that this loss wouldn't be bad, not as bad as losing all his people, his entire _planet_, because this loss could never match that. Yet even that thought fell hollowly upon him. He lifted a clenched fist and brought it down angrily beside his face as he pressed it against the cold floor of the TARDIS, shivers running through his shoulders down to his very core. The scream that tore from him could not be held back, couldn't be suppressed. He let it out against the floor, allowing the icy surface to muffle it against his cheek. He dragged his fists to his temples to staunch the flow of pain that threatened to pour from him like blood from a gash. So many visions and so many softly uttered words, they all ran through him as he fought to block them away. When he couldn't, he realized that this was different, so different from all his other losses. This was more than losing her to death. This was losing her to wrong decisions. Wrong decisions and their consequences.

And he realized against the cold TARDIS floor that the Bad Wolf had been born and had died in the span of forty-two minutes.

With a heaving breath he faltered and collapsed to the grated floor wearily, slipping onto his side. His clenched fists slowly uncurled weakly before his blank eyes, limply. He remained for a long time in the silence in which he'd been left, indistinct thoughts and smiles brushing haunting fingers against his mind, cheeky laughter echoing like a ghost all around him. He remained curled in on his side, catching visions of golden sparkles in the air behind his closed eyes and reaching for them even as they vanished away silently.

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**Next Chapter – Chapter Forty-Two: Crossing Timelines**

Upon stepping foot from his TARDIS he encountered the doors of another TARDIS, another blue phone box standing a mere twenty feet away at the foot of a path. Her path, the small alley in front of the Powell Estate. He stared at the doors and he understood. He understood where he was, _when_ he was. What he had been doing there in the late hours of night.


	43. Crossing Timelines

**A/N: **Ok going in late! The site wouldn't let me update the fic for some crazy reason even though other stuff was being uploaded. I was worried there for a sec, lol! I was sick for the last two days, barely been replying to emails or anything but I THINK I responded to all the reviews so thank you, for reviewing and for your patience with me! I appreciate it IMMENSELY. I took off work Wednesday since I was sick so it will be hectic catching up but I WILL catch up! I promise! There are some people I still need to respond to outside of this site and I promise I will get to you! You know who you are! :)

This chapter further explains the rest of the fic. Hopefully there won't be too many questions after but if there are, drop me a review with your question and I will absolutely get back to you! ;) Thanks to everyone for reviews, for favorite-ing and for setting to alert, you guys all make my day SHINE!

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**Chapter Forty-Two – Crossing Timelines:**

Upon stepping foot from his TARDIS he encountered the doors of another TARDIS, another blue phone box standing a mere twenty feet away at the foot of a path. Her path, the small alley in front of the Powell Estate. He stared at the doors and he understood. He understood where he was, _when_ he was. What he had been doing there in the late hours of night.

He had positioned himself there all that time, both before and after the day on Bad Wolf Bay. He'd forced himself to concentrate on the problem at hand always, except when the TARDIS had directed him to settle certain matters. Just a blink when it came to the life span of the Gallifreyans, to the Time Lords, but that small amount of time had weighed so heavily on him and his soul. He had been worn down by hours of trying to come up with a way to reach her. There had been nights when he had been so exhausted he had been filled with rage to merely look at the TARDIS console. On those occasions he had ventured forth from the blue box, stepping foot out into the night. The sight of the Powell Estate had filled him with purpose once more, had put his thoughts in order and had brought her face to mind. He had done all this for her. All that work, those months, _years_, of calculations, of effort. It had all been for her, to bring her back, to pay for his mistakes in leaving her stranded so far from home even though she had been left with her family. Even though he had promised to never leave her like that to begin with, to always bring her home. It had been his penance in the end to find a way to bring her back and to right all his wrongs when it had come to her. To one Rose Tyler.

Now, looking from the flats of the Powell Estate to the TARDIS at the end of the alleyway, he felt an overwhelming sense of pain and misery.

_I'm in there. Trying to figure it all out. Trying to find a way to bring her back. Or to say goodbye. And for what? To have the worlds blend and fall apart, implode. Because of what I needed._

Inside that TARDIS he was scrambling for an answer, a way to bring Rose Tyler back to Earth. Such a futile gesture, humbling himself and his people for the sake of a human girl. Everything he had done, it had been a mistake to put everything he had ever believed below his feelings for a girl.

_Don't lie to yourself. And don't belittle it. _

He felt a grimace cross his face and felt a slight ache in his back. Almost like the pain an old man felt from too many years of labor, when his body began to fall apart on him. He was an old man in the end who had just wanted to hold on to the feeling of being young, of being in love. Of needing her. He felt his pain almost blossom into a mental one, his chest heaving under the weight of a single breath. Just one more moment with her. One more minute. One more anything. Just with her, with her in his arms. It was all he could ever ask of any deity, any belief. Anything. Just one more.

Bowing his head, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and walked the path to the other TARDIS. As he came closer he felt the air change, shift. Almost immediately the light at the head of the other TARDIS began to blink haphazardly, a current zapping the air around him. He ignored it, ignored the air as it seemed to spark. To his left, in a sudden implosion of sound, a large winged creature came into being.

"Ah," he murmured then, staring at the reaper as it materialized and then merely touched down to the ground silently with a flap of its leathery wings. "Don't worry," he said to the creature, feeling its eyes on him, watching him intently. "I'm here to sterilize the wound as well." He turned his attention from the reaper to the doors of the TARDIS, remembering the words of the Bad Wolf.

"_Ah. My Doctor. My Oncoming Storm. The man present at the beginning of time. At the end of the universe. The one who can open the TARDIS doors with…a mere thought. A snap of his fingers."_

Standing five feet from the door of the other TARDIS, he simply lifted his hand, his eyes purposeful as he did so. And hesitating only one small moment, he snapped his fingers at the TARDIS doors.

The doors opened to his wordless command.

Inside, at the head of the ramp that led from the doorway, with red lights flashing around his stiff frame, his younger self waited amidst the clanging of the cloister bell. "You can't be here," his double said to him from inside, his eyes angry. "You can't do this. You can destroy us with this-"

"I just want a word," he said to him quietly. He didn't wait for a response from him. He merely came into the TARDIS, stepping foot through the open doors and hesitating before the ramp, his movements slow and pained.

His double stepped away from him a respectable distance, his face registering cold irritation.

Turning back to the doors, he shut them behind himself and merely rested there for a moment. Then he pushed his hands into his pockets once more, head bowing as he took a few steps and marched up the ramp. Upon reaching the higher level, causing his double to recoil from him, he began to circle the TARDIS console. "Hello there, girl," he greeted the TARDIS core and controls. "How are you?"

The TARDIS was silent except for the slight flare of her core at the softness of his voice. In the end, even if he found her to be his true home, she saw him the same way, just as Rose did. He was her home. And she was his, always. After another silent but pulsing moment, the red flashing lights died away as did the chime of the cloister bell and he was left with golden silence, standing at the core of the TARDIS and gazing up at her. She was majestic. Extraordinary. Beautiful. And as of yet, untouched by a hypernova.

"What are you doing here?" his younger self demanded. "What are you thinking, doing this?"

His eyes shifted toward his double as he let his head fall back, his lips sounding out words that came to him unbidden. "I'm thinking…that this is what she wanted me to do all along."

His double didn't come any closer, his hands clenched into fists at his side. "You shouldn't even be here. The TARDIS should have run from you. We should've _fled-_" he hissed, teeth tight behind thin lips.

"Oh, don't start," he cut off his double, effectively silencing him with the mere dismissal in his tone. "I know perfectly well where I am. _When_ I am. What I'm doing here. Just…stow it for a moment so I can collect my thoughts."

_I don't even know what to say to you._

Bowing his head and leaning forward to rest his hands on the console of the TARDIS, he allowed his eyes to roam over her, over the little dials and controls upon her face. He treated her like a desk most of the time, he understood vainly, looking at all the sticky pads and papers he had taped to her. She had been with him for so long that he had begun to think of her as his own and not some stolen piece of empathic equipment. She was _his._ "I needed to come here. To see you. To talk to you."

"About what?" his double retorted.

He threw himself a glance, eyes heavy. "About what you're doing. About what you're thinking of doing. And I suggest you don't," he added with an arch to his eyebrow.

His double was silent for a long moment, looking around the TARDIS as if he was about to be ambushed. "Explain it to me first."

Had he always been this brash? Yeah, probably. He let his head hang low for a moment, urging his thoughts to cease screaming through his head and focus, to allow him to voice what needed to be said. What needed to be done. "You're trying to see her," he said quietly and he didn't need to look at the monitor of the TARDIS nor the diagrams strung haphazardly around the console.

"When are you from?" his double asked him quizzically. "The future, obviously. How far? She's gone, isn't she? Do I succeed?" His eyes narrowed, attempting to read his frame, his gestures and words. "Do I…fail?"

_One tiny little gap._

He didn't reply for a moment, his eyes focused on the console under his hands as he rested his weight wearily on his palms. "Do you wish to succeed?"

His double hesitated, seeming to be caught by surprise with the question. "Shouldn't I?"

He lifted his eyes to him then, stern. Shouldn't he have been able to see anything off about it? But he realized the truth a moment later. His eyes had been clouded to the creation of the secondary timeline from the beginning because she had blinded him from it. Just like that, she had hidden the very existence of the corrupted timeline from him as if it had never existed. From the very beginning. Which meant the moment he gave her hope on the beach, he would cease to see what the decision would bring about. "Do you wish to succeed?" he questioned once more, his tone cold.

His double was a fool to even think of lying to him. He seemed to understand just that a moment later as they locked eyes. "With all I am," he replied in a tight breath.

With a small sigh at his words, he rose to his full height, pulling away from the console of the TARDIS, and he crossed his arms over his chest dismissively. "I suggest you not," he said in an offhand tone and he glanced down to his side, reaching out to toggle a switch on the console absentmindedly.

His younger self hesitated all of a small second before lifting a hand to run it through his hair in exasperation. "Blimey, I'm cryptic," he said with what seemed to resemble awe. "Do I always come across like that? To everyone? No wonder they were always irritated with me. I irritate myself! Which isn't a new experience, sadly. A bit sobering though. Well…" And he seemed about to say something more before merely allowing his hand to fall at his side once more.

He eyed his double silently, fingers still toggling the switch on the TARDIS' console.

"Will you tell me why not?" his younger self asked softly. "Or is that just…reaching?"

Shifting his eyes to the console, to his fingers playing across the controls, he pursed his lips at the question. "I can," he answered with an absentminded nod. "I can tell you that and more. For the mere reason that I know that if I were to tell you nothing it wouldn't deter you from doing what I came here to make sure you _didn't_ do. If that makes any form of sense."

His double shifted. "Crystal, actually." He gestured futilely to him, his own eyes darting from his future self to the TARDIS console, the jump seat. Anything almost, just not his other self's face. "Tell me something. _Anything._ It's why you're here after all."

He straightened at his words, coming to his full height. "Actually I came here to tell you not to attempt this any further. I had no intention of telling you the motive behind neither my trip nor the reasons why it would be a bad idea." He looked at him, head still bowed and spared him a glance as if he wore glasses and was peering over the rim at him. Almost like a disappointed grade school teacher.

His double met his gaze, his jaw clenching a bit. "That's not why you're here."

He didn't waver. "Isn't it?"

His double cocked his head at him, a frown creasing his forehead. "This is why you came here?" he demanded loudly, pointing at the floor between them, at the TARDIS grate under their feet. "This is why you came? To tell me nothing?"

He paused, his face darkening in the midst of his double's sudden emotion. "I already explained to you why I'm here-"

"Don't!" his double shouted at him. He motioned to the console of the TARDIS, to the core as it seemed to make a whimpered groan at their confrontation. "I know what I'm doing! I'm saying goodbye. I _need_ to say goodbye to her!"

He gazed at his younger self, stunned for a moment. An instant later he understood. He was a day off. A mere twenty-four hours off his mark. He had been expecting to find himself already working on the solution of the _hypernova_. But he hadn't yet stumbled on the solution of the _supernova_. He had asked whether he would succeed in saying goodbye, not in bringing her back. "Yes, you do," he whispered rapidly, quickly refocusing enough to continue. "Need to say goodbye, that is."

His double came to a stop at his words, his face registering confusion. "Then what? What is it you don't want me to do? Because I'm _bamboozled_ at the mere fact that you are _standing_ in front of me as if this visit wouldn't rip the foundations of our reality _apart!"_ He paused, gesturing across to his older self and then back to himself. "What would I possibly do to warrant such a risky action, other than say goodbye?"

Looking at his younger self, at the barely-lined face, he realized suddenly what would put those lines there in this timeline. Himself. He himself would put those lines on his own face. It was a silly little paradox that would not matter in the end if everything went well. "She will ask you a question," he murmured numbly. "She will ask to see you again. And you'll say yes."

His double stared at him, lips parted at his words. "But…I can't. Why would I say yes? It would tear the worlds apart, would rip down the walls. I can't." His eyes shifted to the side in disconcerted thought, his jaw working. "It's not…"

"You'll say yes," he repeated and he almost reached out to his double, almost went to grab him to make him understand. "She'll ask you and she will cry and it will break your heart. Both of them. Just as it did mine."

His double's eyes darted back to his, disbelieving.

"If I can stop you from even saying goodbye, I would," he said to his younger self, a hand held out absentmindedly. "But for me to tell you that, to try to stop you…it's foolish, really. You're going to go anyway, whether you hear me or not. Simply because you know that a mere projection through a breach in the wall would not alter that world in any way, shape, or form. You know it as well as I do, which is why I won't ask you not to say goodbye. You owe it to her. _I_ owed it to her."

His double merely stared at him, looking confused. "Then why are you here?" he asked. And as an afterthought he added, "Doctor."

_Why indeed?_

Allowing his hand to fall limply back at his side, realizing that he would have to tell him, he tried to find a way around it. But was there really a point in not telling him? In doing so he would be able to convince him not to go back for her, not to splinter the worlds. He would make sure that the timeline continued as it should have.

"I'm here to tell you that after goodbye, there is nothing else. You won't see her again. And she _will_ ask you. She will ask you if she will ever see you again and you will have to say no," he explained quietly, his eyes falling away and coming back to the console of the TARDIS. He became aware that she was pulsing gently, almost heaving the way he wanted to just explaining to himself what he had to do. As if even the TARDIS mourned what was to come, what was to be of his life after Rose. "You will want to say yes. Because I could never say no to her in the end, even knowing that I could risk reapers, I could risk the entire timeline. And I shouldn't have."

His double could only stare at him, mouth open to say something.

"You won't see. You won't see the repercussions because you're not meant to. But there's more, after this," he said to him and by the expression on his counterpart's face he knew it was not what he had wanted to hear. "You will be in a dark place after this, the dark place she took us out from. Of that I have no doubt-"

"And yet you wouldn't know," his double whispered dully at him. He looked aside and his eyes betrayed what he saw in his mind, the visions he was conjuring, his frame stiff. No doubt visions of more time with Rose, of holding her hand and running and laughing as if there had never been an alternate world to be left behind in. "You said yes after all."

He came to a stop, his words dying on his lips at his double's words.

"What did you see? And why can't I see it? Why didn't _you_ see it?" his younger self asked him, his voice hoarse with anger. "What are you not telling me, after saying yes to her? Does it split the worlds, crack them like shells? Are there reapers? Paradoxes? Are you to blame? Am _I?"_

He didn't reply for a long moment, his lips moving but no sound coming forth.

"Do we destroy this world, Doctor?" he asked his future self and his voice was full of what could only be loathing. Perhaps directed at himself.

With eyes slowly falling out of focus, he thought back to his Rose, asleep in bed, the weary lines across her face. He whispered faintly, "We destroy _her."_

His double came to a stunned stop. "What?"

"_She'll go insane. And she's so powerful. So absolutely powerful. If you thought the sight of a paradox machine, the sound of the cloister bell was enough…you haven't seen anything. Not when she becomes the Bad Wolf again."_

Feeling a small ache deep inside at the mere thought of her seeing visions of the other timeline, being driven insane in a place where she was supposed to be safe, he said softly, "Just…never saw it, never saw it coming. A residual effect of the Bad Wolf Entity once she returns. And she _does_ return." He eyed his younger self. "That and a timeline that was just…fragile to begin with, constantly changing, constantly in flux." He sighed and lifted his hands, holding them parallel to each other, palms facing in. "A timeline, a solid timeline, is constant. Fixed. But to have a secondary timeline branch from it, cross, not remain parallel, to even be taken _over_ at some points…I don't know," he mused wearily, blankly, hands falling away at his sides. "I just never saw that outcome. I suppose it's why I did it in the end, why I made my way back to her. I didn't see how it would turn out. She never let me."

He glanced at his double to see him standing before him in complete confusion.

"All right. I will explain it and from there you will make your decision," he said to his double softly. "But you must make your decision as a Time Lord. Not as…not the way I made it. Do you understand?"

His double nodded reluctantly.

With a deep weary breath, the Doctor began. "The timeline I come from, the future I originate from, is not your future. Or rather, I hope it won't be. It was a mistake, that timeline. But getting back to the subject at hand, this timeline I'm standing in will branch. In twenty-four hours, it will branch into an alternate timeline. And you won't see that timeline's future. You won't see anything of it because you aren't meant to." He paused, gauging his expression. "Do you follow?"

His younger self was thoughtful. "Why wouldn't I see what is to happen?" he questioned.

He fought the smile that threatened to curl his lips. "It would seem a certain form of a mindlock is placed on us. We will be completely unaware of what that specific future holds."

"A mindlock?" his younger self seemed flabbergasted. "How does that even _work?_ Who instates it?"

The older Doctor waved away the question. "At this point, it doesn't really matter. What matters comes after. Once you bring Rose back, the walls of the new timeline begin to crack. Things that you can't see begin to happen and only she will see them. Rose. She will see what was meant to be but she will not understand. Even now she doesn't really understand. She will see people and events from the proper timeline. On top of it a future version of myself will send back people in time to see her. To stop her."

"Stop her from what?" his double questioned.

"From becoming the Bad Wolf, aren't you following anything I'm telling you?" he asked him rapidly, frowning. "Ah. Rude of me, yes. You wouldn't understand it the way I do. Once she becomes the Bad Wolf she will create a paradox machine to maintain the second timeline…while she…"

His double leaned in slightly, prodding him on wordlessly.

"While she tries to fix the timeline herself," he finished.

His younger self recoiled once more, eyes wide. "Why would she do that? Why wouldn't _you_ do it? Why wouldn't…" He broke off, at a loss for words.

The Doctor smiled at that, his face soft. "I had wondered that myself from the moment I understood. And all I could really come up with is that…she wanted to maintain the timeline as it had started. Returning to the world she called home. To the world she was no longer a part of. She wanted to stay here, go on with life as it should've been. I think she maintained the timeline, created the paradox machine to maintain it, so that she could try to fix it. Little quirks here, a small fix there. Anything to make it work. And I think in the end…she realized she couldn't." He hesitated, looking off blindly and seeing the Bad Wolf dying in his arms once more, Rose's face looking so very sleepy. "Not with the time she had left. She just…ran out of time without finding the proper solution. If there is one at all."

His double was reluctant. "Ran out of time?" he asked softly.

He merely looked at his double knowingly. "A human can not possess the energies of the time vortex for long. You know that. It killed you once, after all."

His double fell into silence.

Sighing, looking around the console room once more, the Doctor stood in silence for a long moment. "It was all just…wrong," he murmured thoughtfully, seeing everything that he had done and realizing what it had led to. "One big loop of…confusion. The Bad Wolf recreates herself, creates the paradox machine, allows the Doctor, allows _me_, to send people who would originally help to create her while she works in the background to fix the entire thing." He broke off, his voice faint. "What did she think would happen once she restored the TARDIS? Once she restored herself? As if she even could."

His double chuckled at his side, bringing him to look at him. "I don't think she really looked that far ahead. As daft as that sounds, seeing as how she could see all of time and space."

He smiled with his double. "I think…she was willing to sacrifice herself to make that timeline work. The one where she was reunited with me. I think she wanted that…more than even she would know."

His double stood quietly, staring at him even as he continued to murmur to himself. "We're in flux. Right now," he said to him, loud enough to cut into his older self's thoughts. "This very moment, we're in flux. This can go any which way."

"Yes," the older Doctor whispered tiredly.

"But…you want me to leave her behind," his double said. He paused for a moment, thinking furiously. "But if I find a way to bring her back to me, knowing what you're telling me, I can help her. I can _change-"_

"No!" He looked at his counterpart, anger suddenly rising inside him at the mere suggestion. "I came back for this reason, to stop you from doing anything else after your goodbye. Nothing else!"

Shaking his head at his words, his counterpart gestured with open palms and pointed index fingers. The way he knew he did when he was confronted with imminent danger and was attempting to ramble his way out of it. "But I understand," his younger self continued. "Coming back to our world, I can help her. I can help her through whatever happens. I can fix it-"

_"You don't even know what there is to fix!"_ he shouted at him and he slammed a fist down on the console of the TARDIS, bringing her to hum loudly. He looked down at the knobs, at his fisted hand opening and spreading, deriving strength from the cold metal of the TARDIS. "You can't…_fix_ this."

His younger self shook his head. "You don't know that-"

"I _do_ know that," he cut him off in a whisper. "All the people who were sent back, all those lives lost because of…of..."Shutting his eyes wearily, he staggered a bit and sat down on the jump seat, falling back and feeling the need to melt into the seat, to become liquid and just dissolve away into nothingness. Settling limply, his head falling back to look at the ceiling of the TARDIS, he gazed blindly at the golden walls, the pale blue light of the core. "All those lives lost."

His double remained as far away as possible, it seemed.

Inhaling deeply, he composed himself in the silence. A moment later, he took in the sudden faint scent of Rose and felt his eyes drag sideways a bit, noticing the sweater next to him on the seat only then. Reaching out wordlessly, he took it into his hands and stared at it, stretching it across his lap and remembering it. A red zip hoodie. The sweater she had worn the first time she had become the Bad Wolf. The same one she had worn when she had gone through the window, bleeding from her hands on the kitchen floor in New York.

His double watched him, jaw clenching a bit as he held it with both hands and merely stared at it.

"Do you remember-" he asked his younger self, seeing the sweater almost blindly. Her scent was overpowering then, drifting from the material in his grasp.

"Yes," his double cut him off shortly.

He looked at his counterpart, a faint smile curling his lips. "Of course," he murmured, fingers brushing the fabric. "She'd been so scared when I…when _we_ regenerated. And hurt, she told me later." He eyed his past self as his double looked at him in confusion. "She never told you but she told me. Wandered off one night, hospital on the moon. Judoon. All in good time."

He came to a slow stop at the thought. The Judoon. Hospital on the moon. Was he destined to experience all that with Martha Jones then? So much was being explained, becoming easier to understand now that he saw bits of what was to happen.

He shook himself from his thoughts a moment later. "Anyway," he continued, still gazing at the sweater and rubbing it between his fingers, catching her scent as the friction of his fingertips across the material released the perfume. "She told me she had felt betrayed for a bit because we had never told her about regeneration, had never warned her. She came around in the end, of course, but she really had no choice in the matter. Had to settle in between the running." He wasn't seeing the sweater anymore, only her face in the street light as she had told him, had come clean about that. What else had she thought that she would never get the chance to come clean with? Was there anything else after having seen into her mind? He didn't wish to venture a guess. "But I'll never forget the look on her face…" And then he remembered and a mirthless laugh rose from him, equal parts sarcasm and bitterness. "Or maybe I will, eh?" he questioned and his counterpart merely looked at him in bemusement. "Maybe I _will_ forget that look on her face. Almost funny, that."

His younger self remained wisely silent.

Leaning back once more, his arms fell limply in his lap, the sweater wrapped around his wrists. He went on quietly. "The timelines. They splinter and they crack. And everything you will go through here overlaps with what we went through in our world. She saw things I couldn't. People. People who were sent back to stop us. She will begin to plan. It's already happening, really. Has been for over a year. Well," he shrugged, sniffed a bit as he gazed at the sweater. "Doesn't matter."

His double took a step closer to him, hands rising to find their way into his suit pockets.

"It happens almost immediately," he added, going on in an absentmindedly blank tone. "As soon as I bring her back. She took a walk, went to a café, she said. Saw an image of me. Of you," he corrected himself, nodding his head slightly. "Was never me. I'd never been to that café. But then she looked again and you weren't there. Whatever the case, later that night she went back home and she saw me again. And that time it had been me. But not yet. Or maybe it was you as well. Who can really know anymore?"

His counterpart frowned a bit.

"Two years," he went on in that same thoughtful yet numb voice. Monotonous, almost. "She asked if she would ever see me again. I asked her for five and a half hours. And I spent almost two years trying to make my way to her." He snapped his jaw shut for a moment, nodding faintly to himself. "Two years hopping around space and time, attempting to make my way to her world to bring her back. Once I had it I went back to her on that beach. Norway," he piped up, glancing at his past self at the word. "You'll understand later. You'll _know…_later. But I never told her about the two years. She thought I'd only been gone two hours. Even told me I was early." He laughed at that, a real laugh filled with humor. It ended suddenly and the cheer vanished almost immediately from his face, his expression wavering as he began to blink rapidly.

Staring at him, his counterpart felt his own hearts begin to break. That was what he would become, this shell of a man, the shell of a broken Time Lord. If someone had told him that Rose Tyler would one day make him a miserable tired old man he would never have believed it. But before him, on the jump seat, sat the proof. He was weary, defeated at last. Dark circles under his eyes, his face gaunt. His future self was thinner if it were even possible. And it was becoming quite clear that his future self was very much alone.

_This is our story. The story of the last Time Lord._

He didn't want to become that. Ever. Even if he was meant to be alone always, he did not want it to be at such a price.

"I'm going to leave you with something," his older counterpart said to him. "I'm going to leave you with certain memories I have. Not all of them. You do have to live your own life after all." The statement was said with a bit of cheek to it. "I'll connect to the TARDIS, my TARDIS. She'll have enough power to send back the projections to you. I can't touch you to do it myself."

He nodded that he understood.

Seeming reluctant as he set aside the red sweater, he merely brushed his fingers across it nonetheless as it settled on the seat beside his weary frame. "Gardenia," he suddenly said. He looked at his past self with a goofy grin, eyes twinkling. "She smells like a mixture of Gardenia and Freesia. And something else in there…"

"Honey," his younger self supplied. "With a bit of coconut…"

His counterpart nodded, realization dawning on him. Then a comically confused expression crossed his face. "What does she do, lather herself in honey and throw herself into flowers? I'll never understand it." With a small sigh he rose to his feet.

And faltered.

His past self waited for him as he braced himself against the jump seat, his chest suddenly heaving. As he met his eyes he understood, the same way his younger self had understood the moment he'd lost strength in his legs.

"I guess you convinced me," his counterpart said to him with a dismissive shrug, hands firmly in his pockets, staring as his older self attempted to rise to his feet once more and barely managed it. Looking toward the TARDIS console his double glanced at the monitor, narrowing his eyes at the screen. "Your readings are off the chart," he murmured, motioning, and the future Doctor looked at the monitor with a frown. "The energy your TARDIS is harnessing, storing…it's astounding. And it's erratic, the readings. Unstable. Your TARDIS is…" He broke off with a sharp intake of breath. "Your TARDIS is in the midst of a collapse. But the energies…is it from-" His jaw dropped open for an instant, his eyes widening. Circling the console and coming up to the right of the older Doctor but maintaining a respectable distance, he tapped a few keys on the keyboard, mouth hanging open. _"A hypernova?"_ A smile broke his face, his eyes gleaming excitedly. "That's _brilliant!"_

The elder Doctor took several clumsy steps away from the console, slowly making his way to the ramp. He couldn't seem to support himself on his own two feet, a feeling of weakness washing over him. This was what it was then. An end in sight finally. He was being rewritten, perhaps even being written _out. _Even as he realized it, he couldn't seem to muster the fear it should have brought. He couldn't seem to feel anything other than pain."All you'll need is a supernova. Trust that," he threw over his shoulder in a warning tone to his counterpart.

Looking at him and straightening away from the console, the past Doctor stared after him, mouth snapping shut. "She does know, doesn't she?" he called to him, his voice betraying him a bit. "She does know that…after everything…"

Sighing faintly and leaning against the rail of the ramp, he looked over his shoulder at his past self. Even now, gazing at his younger self, he couldn't help but feel sorry. He still couldn't say those words. He bowed his head as he thought it, as he felt it through his weariness. His own TARDIS was humming loudly; he could hear her clear through the gentle rumble of this TARDIS he stood in. She was beckoning him to return to her, that she would protect him. She would shelter him from the collapsing timeline for as long as she could. "Oh…" he murmured, inhaling raspily. "She knows."

And with that, even as his counterpart stared after him, he staggered down the ramp and pushed his way out the TARDIS doors, out into the night.

The reaper was gone, leaving behind only his own blue phone box awaiting his return.

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**Next Chapter – Chapter Forty-Three: Never Stop Running**

As he stared at the readings on the monitor he found himself finally understanding. With the Bad Wolf gone and the paradox machine of the future disintegrating, his current timeline was shattering and collapsing at last, falling away into the void. All that was now maintaining this erroneous timeline was his own TARDIS, burning through the remaining power of the hypernova in the process.

How strange to face the end of the world and yet feel completely calm.


	44. Never Stop Running

**A/N: **Ok so last week I tried to update on Thursday and was giving me an error whenever I tried to edit the fic. I've sent in emails to support but nothing's gotten fixed yet. I'm going to try to work my way around again like I did last time and see if it uploads. Wish me luck! Also, this is the second to last chapter so next week I'll be sending out the epilogue. Thank you guys for your reviews and for the alerts. I love responding to all of you! If I haven't responded yet, you probably reviewed in the last two days and I just haven't gotten a chance to get back to you. But I will! I promise! Four discs for the soundtrack have been uploaded to my personal fanfiction website if you guys want to go check them out and download them. After next week's chapter I'll upload the fifth and will be done with this entire endeavor. Phew! Lol!

Enjoy!

**P.S. **The quote Ten uses in the chapter belongs to Albert Camus.

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**Chapter Forty-Three – Never Stop Running:**

Upon entering his TARDIS, he had felt strength return to him. It was because of the phone box that he felt normal yet again but he had sensed the heaviness to her. The journey as he had taken them away from that place and time had been sluggish. She was weakening, compensating for and taking on the weight of the coming fracture and dissolution. Monitoring the console, he had seen the readings, had felt that utter fear finally streak through him at what he had seen. Then he had realized that he had actually saved the original timeline, smoothing over the gaping hole that would have been left once his timeline ceased to be. Everything restored and back to the way it should have been.

At his own expense.

As he stared at the readings on the monitor he found himself finally understanding. With the Bad Wolf gone and the paradox machine of the future disintegrating, his current timeline was shattering and collapsing at last, falling away into the void. All that was now maintaining this erroneous timeline was his own TARDIS, burning through the remaining power of the hypernova in the process.

How strange to face the end of the world and yet feel completely calm.

The projections had been downloaded and sent, from his mind to the mind of the TARDIS, her hard disk if it could be called that. He had selected only a few important memories and he had chosen almost all of them to be images of Rose. Rose smiling, her tongue curling to touch the inside of her teeth. Rose laughing widely, head thrown back. Rose holding his hand as they ran, golden hair flying behind her figure. Rose in his arms, her scent drifting up and overwhelming him as her arms had snaked around his waist, her head burrowing into his neck. The way she had felt when he had finally made love to her. Blond silk. Soft skin. Gentle, hitched breath. All of it Rose Tyler.

His room was dark when he came to it in the end. Everything was dark now and it would be so from there on if he remembered any of it, which he wouldn't. He hesitated in the doorway upon opening his door, hearing the TARDIS hum around him. He almost felt the sympathy from her. No, not sympathy. That was too bland a word to describe it. Her heartbreak. Her heart was breaking and she was weeping silently for him, that he understood. That he _felt._ She wept for him. No tears fell and no sobs were heard but she mourned him and his fate. He lifted a hand, turning to face the doorframe and he slid it down her form gently, his eyes soft as he understood that at last there would be an end. All his lives, all those years. He had known it would end one day somehow. But to face it now, here in his wonderful TARDIS with the one human who had been able to change him for the better, he couldn't have asked for anything more.

_Thank you._

The figure in the bed shifted quietly and he tore his eyes from the TARDIS doorframe, looking into the darkened room, vision having adjusted to the blackness already. He waited for her as she moved a bit more, a hand sliding across the bed, legs dragging under a thin blanket. And her voice, almost silent in the room, hovered faintly in the darkness.

"Doctor?"

He bowed his head at her voice. Any minute now. It should have been done already. But as he stood there, feeling the TARDIS thrum around him, he understood. That little bit of energy remaining, stored from the hypernova. Just a little bit more consumed to withstand the heaviness of a collapsing timeline, sustaining the very ground he stood on, the very air he breathed. She was holding their timeline afloat in the darkness of the oncoming void, straining to give him just a little bit more time, just a few more minutes. Almost like a paradox machine but never twisted, never corrupted, merely sorrowful. He supposed he should be thankful for the favor then. His hand slid down the doorframe and then slipped away from the side, falling beside his hip silently, his other hand hanging limply.

_Send him my last moments. All of this. Send it to him so he can know. One last memory before sleeping._

He heard the TARDIS thrum in agreement, throbbing weakly, and he was sorry to give her yet one more task. But he understood that she would never fail him, never question him unless she felt it would cause a problem, a wrinkle. Here in a dissolving timeline, there was no longer a wrinkle to be ironed out, only a stain to be lifted and done away with.

"I'm here," he said finally to Rose.

She shifted once more wearily in the silence. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly and as he looked toward her he made her out in the darkness as she sat up, the blanket trailing off her shoulder. A single bare shoulder in the darkness, one slender hand pulling the sheet to her breast. Her eyes were tired, drained. Almost like black holes in her face. He gazed at her for a long silent while, listening to his hearts as they beat in the quiet, feeling as if they would burst from his chest. He couldn't bear to look at her for a long period. The darkness of her eyes almost threatened to consume him. He had seen that blankness, that _blackness, _when looking into the eyes of the-

"Bad Wolf," he murmured quietly, staring at her stiffly.

She did not recoil from his words, from his tone. Instead she merely returned his stare, his intensity. And yet so tired at the same time. "It feels like such a long time ago," she whispered. She lowered her gaze away, blond hair falling along her bare shoulder and he suddenly felt lighter at not having to feel her eyes on his. "I…don't know the Bad Wolf anymore."

He tilted his head back at her words, his lips parting. "Oh, but it's there, inside you. Deep inside. So deep you don't even know it's there," he said quietly, eyes widening slightly as he spoke. He took a step in, staring at her as she looked at him once more, her face bemused. "But," he added and his voice lowered, dropping away. "It doesn't matter anymore. None of it does."

She looked back at him as he took another step, as his hands found their way into the pockets of his coat. "No. I guess not." She gazed at him, seeming so tired, moving to settle a bit more, the blanket clutched to her chest. "What happened to you?" she murmured with the slightest frown. "You look…"

He bowed his head, lips pouting a bit. "Nothing," he replied, eyes focused on the floor of her room blindly. He lifted a leg to take another step, found it difficult to drop it to the floor to actually complete the movement. "Took a trip. Saw a bit of the world. Still running."

He felt her as she laughed faintly. "Always running, you are," she said to that. As he took another step to pause before his bed, she shifted along the mattress, the sheet dragging against her chest. She lifted a hand to him in the darkness, fingers curling wearily for him. He stared at her hand for a long moment before pulling his own from his pocket and taking it gently. There was a limpness to her wrist and he felt how weak her grip was, felt the coolness to her skin. But he compensated for it, holding her hand tightly. She pulled a bit on his hand and he came up against the mattress as it halted him mid-thigh.

"Don't you ever stop running," she whispered to him, her stare firm.

His eyes darted from her hand to her eyes as she leveled the dark gaze at him. Did she know? "Never," he said to her, his head lifting, his eyes refusing to leave hers.

A smile quirked the corner of her lips at his response. Then she was pulling him still, her hand gentle but insistent. He hesitated in the darkness, eyes drawn to hers and there was so much there. So much unsaid but so much heard nonetheless. He would never have to tell her what she wanted to hear. She already knew. She knew everything and more, just so much more without ever having to say it aloud which was perfectly fine with him. Lifting a leg, he draped it onto the mattress and she reached past their joined hands. The sheet slid down slightly, her free hand lifting to his face. Sighing, she clasped him gently, her palm pressing to his jaw, looking up at him sadly. As if she knew. As if she had known for so long.

And maybe she had.

His eyes drifted down to the edge of the sheet, pinched under her arm. Even in the darkness he could almost feel the smoothness of her bare skin as if he had grazed his fingers across it. With his other hand he shrugged his coat off, feeling it slip down his arm and off his frame. It hung from their joined grip and he tilted his head at her, not willing to rush her or part their hands. She did it for him, releasing him for a moment, never pulling her eyes from his. She rid him of the coat and then merely tossed it aside into a corner of the room. It didn't matter anymore where it landed and somehow he knew that she knew it. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing but this moment and nothing past it. He gazed at her, his eyes trailing across her bare shoulders and along her arms as they reached toward him once more. He realized yet again that she was beautiful, as beautiful here and now as she had been that day in the black dress with the golden baby-fine hair. As beautiful as that day he had gone back for her on the beach, upon throwing open the door and seeing her after almost two long years. Heartbreakingly beautiful, wide weary eyes, a hidden smile that threatened to break out across her face even though this was the end.

"We can't run forever," she whispered and his heart clenched at her words.

Why not, he questioned fiercely then, his frame stiffening at the cruelty. Why couldn't they just run, just keep running from everything? Why couldn't they run from the timelines that consistently threatened to tear them apart? Run from every person that had been sent back in time to stop them, to halt their efforts? Why couldn't they run from them, just a little bit longer, just a little bit more? He had run all of his lives, why did it have to end here?

But maybe this was finally the end then. The end to the running, to the adventures. He hesitated, her words floating in his head as he questioned them and at the same time settled for them. If this was indeed the end, then there was no better way to go, no one better to be with when it happened. Perhaps in the end, the domestic approach was the best. The thought brought the smallest smile to the corners of his lips, his eyes caught by hers, her gentle scent hovering around him.

_Hold my hand and run. Run with me. Don't look down and don't look back. Look at me, smile with me and run. Just run. Never stop running._

"One of the very first things I ever said to you," he murmured softly, leaning down toward her as she clasped his hand once more, as she pulled him to her in the darkness. He hovered over her, gazing down as she arched, sitting up onto her knees on the bed. The mattress groaned gently under them, the sheet slipping down a bit more before catching against her chest. "Run." His eyes widened a bit at the command, his tongue curling up as he whispered it.

She smiled wordlessly in the darkness, a small faint smile. "Haven't stopped running since, have we?" she questioned him rhetorically. Her expression unexpectedly crumbled then, her lips turning down. Her voice was gentle when she spoke next, suddenly anguished. "Why can't we keep running?" she asked him, pleading, her hands trembling in the darkness as she held him.

As tears fell from her eyes, he sat down on the bed before her. His gaze saddened as he looked up at her, as she settled onto her knees weakly. The summer in her eyes faltered as they filled with more tears and he lifted his hand to her face, brushing back locks of waving blond hair from her cheeks. "We can," he said quickly, feeling suddenly miserable that he would lie to her then. "We will. Just not right now, but after you've rested. Have a little kip, turn down for the night, and in the morning we'll run. You and me. We'll just…run." He gestured to the side futilely, gestured to a future that was not in reach for them.

"Run," she echoed him quietly. She giggled through her tears, releasing his hand to lift her fingers to her eyes and brush tear tracks from her cheeks. Because there was nothing else to do but laugh when one couldn't cry anymore.

He laughed with her, a small parting of his lips. His teeth glinted in the darkness, a smile not quite reaching the deep depths of his old, bottomless eyes. "Yeah."

Her laughter died away, eyes appealing to him silently. "There is so much we didn't do," she said, hitching on a painful sob and he remembered her weeping that day on the beach just a year before. At her words he leaned forward, pulling free of her hands and sweeping her into his embrace desperately. His arms tightened around her slender frame as she buried her face into his shoulder, her own shaking. "There's so much-"

"There's always going to be so much," he soothed her. His wide eyes became stuck to the wall of the TARDIS blindly, his own vision blurring suspiciously. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, listening to her cry, his hearts beating painfully. "There's always going to be one more adventure, one more thing to run from. Always. Because it's vast, that world, that universe. All those planets and all those times, there's always more."

She sobbed into his neck, her hair almost tickling him as he held her, as he envisioned all those places he had thought to take her but had never gotten around to. "Why can't we go there?" she asked against him, her fingers digging into his shoulder and into the hair at the nape of his neck sorrowfully.

Why indeed.

"We will," he whispered, straining from falling apart. "We'll see it all together. We'll go to Barcelona. We'll go to the end of the universe. We'll go to the beginning of time. We'll go anywhere you want for as long as you want. You just tell me where you want to go and we'll go in the morning." And he closed his eyes tightly at his words, feeling low as he promised what he knew he would not be able to deliver in the morning.

_This is what it feels like when a heart breaks._

She held him, her sobs slowing quietly, her shoulders limp. "Let's go to our end," she murmured against his neck, her eyes opening to gaze blindly past him to the door of his room. She could catch his scent here, arched against him, her cheek pressed to his collar. The scent of earth and time, of autumn and winter moonlight. Of seasons and years. Of death and endings. "Let's go to our last day together and watch it as it happens."

He didn't reply to that, a lump in his throat. He couldn't get anything past that sudden blockage in his throat.

"Tell me we'll go there," she pleaded with him as his silence threatened to overwhelm her, her fingers leaving his shoulder for the smallest moment to drag away tears from her cheek.

"We'll go there," he replied instantly, fighting through that lump, needing to comfort her, needing to soothe her even if it was with bloody lies. Anything to make it easier, what was to transpire.

"Shut up," she whispered in his ear. As he went to recoil the slightest bit, she said quietly against his ear, "We're already here, yeah?" And she pulled back to gaze up at him, her arms curled around his shoulders, her heart breaking in her summer eyes.

He returned the gaze, his lips parted. Then, faintly, almost breathlessly, he echoed her. "We're already here."

And in her eyes he saw acceptance, saw the gratitude that he would be honest with her. She didn't need to be soothed, to be comforted. To be lied to. She just needed him. He knew it then, knew it as he had always known it but had never wanted to admit it. She was mortal, after all, so very human. Someone who one day may have needed a domestic life. A career. A husband. Two point five kids. Someone to grow old and die with. Was he the one in the end? Not the one to grow old with but the one to die with, to disappear into the unknown with?

"I'm ok with this," she said then, her gaze still caught to his. Even as tears swam in her eyes, she murmured, "Because I know that they're going to take care of you. All those people I saw, doing all those things with you instead of me…they're taking care of you. In my place. And I'm ok with it. Because I know _you're_ going to be ok-"

He didn't want her to continue that sentence, that thought, his head shaking to shush her. Because even as she was fine with it, he was _far_ from it. That was Rose Tyler, always worrying about everyone else except herself. Maybe he _would_ be fine once this was all over. Once the goodbye on the beach was said and done, he would go on, as would she. But he wanted to be there with her to help her through it. And wasn't that just one more paradox waiting to happen?

"Let's run always," she whispered then, gazing into his dark eyes, inhaling deeply to compose herself even the smallest bit.

He smiled faintly, returning the gaze as his thoughts turned once more to her. "Yes. Please." And there in her eyes, he saw merely echoes. Echoes of the Bad Wolf as the vision vanished from her eyes. Echoes of the heart of the TARDIS. And echoes of a once brilliant summer that threatened to flare back to life then, a familiar powerful summer. He stared into those eyes, words springing to mind almost dreamily, someone else's words and yet so fitting in these last moments.

_In the depths of winter, I finally found there was in me an invincible summer._

And as she lifted her head to him, a gentle smile on her lips, he allowed himself. Finally. Of his own free will with nothing but his hearts in his hands to give to her. He lifted a hand to her cheek, cupping it, fingertips brushing her soft skin and he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, a gentle kiss in the darkness. But one that held so much, that said so much without words. His breath mingled with hers, his hearts beating in time as they slowed against his chest, a sigh leaving her faintly. There was nothing else then, nothing else to fear. Only her with him in that room that was slowly but surely vanishing, the TARDIS making the last ditch effort to send back a memory that went from darkness to light. Then the weightless sensation came, the TARDIS mourning them as she finally, only then, buckled under the weight of the timeline and faded away. And only the two of them, three hearts beating as one, thoughts swirling together as everything became nothing in the early morning hours of a timeline that melted away into the void.

_Run. Always._

* * *

**Last Chapter – Epilogue: From the Beginning**

"Am I ever going to see you again?" she asked him in mid-straining sob, a hand lifted to her head, holding back wisps of wild blond hair as it blew around her face. And she looked at him.


	45. From the Beginning

**A/N: **Ok lovely readers, here's the last chapter to the fic. I debated waiting till tomorrow but I will be absolutely crazy busy at work so I figured instead of sending out late, I may as well just...get it over with, LOL! It makes me a bit sad, to tell the truth, but I knew the fic was going to end sometime!

Anyhoo, you guys, thanks so much for all your reviews and for setting it up for alerts and favorites. I really appreciate the time you all took to read this fic and for being here for the ride. This was SUCH a big part of my life for two years, the fic AND the soundtracks. I should be uploading the last disc to the site either tomorrow or Friday so keep an eye out for that and try them out, see what you think! I'm glad you all got to read the fic and have enjoyed it. I hope I keep putting stuff out that introduces me to more really great people because this fic did that for me with all of you! So as a quick aside, thank you to Emilie since you weren't signed in, I couldn't reply to your review. But for everyone else, you know I'll respond to any reviews you all leave me. So thanks again and know that I appreciate every word you have all left me! :)

* * *

**Epilogue – From the Beginning:**

It was a gray morning. It was always going to be a gray morning now. In his memory, now full of everything he had been sent by a TARDIS that no longer existed, it was a gray morning. It was the same day, only this time there was no happy ending. He had come for one thing and one thing only.

This was goodbye.

"Am I ever going to see you again?" she asked him in mid-straining sob, a hand lifted to her head, holding back wisps of wild blond hair as it blew around her face. And she looked at him.

He knew what she wanted him to say. Yes, she would see him again. Yes, he would find a way back to her across the void. Yes, yes, yes. Five hours. Wait five and a half hours to his two years and he would be back for her.

_Just wait._

"You can't," he said softly, shaking his head. And his hearts tore just as he had been promised.

Face tinged red in pain, she wept at his words. "What are you going to do?"

He lifted his eyes away for a moment at the thought. What was he going to do? Saying simple little things in his head was not the same as saying them aloud. What was there to do? What could he do knowing that there had been a whole year where it had just been him and her, just the two of them running, his counterpart and her? That somewhere in the future, and in the past, the two of them were running from something, were running _toward_ something, holding hands and laughing and blissfully unaware that their end was here on this gray and lonely beach. What was there to do?

_Die a little inside. See the world in gray for a while. Perhaps take my anger out on a race of people and destroy them. Just so they can understand how much I __**hurt.**_

"Oh, I've got the TARDIS," he replied instead, his eyes drawing back to hers, speaking through clenched teeth. "Same old life. Last of the Time Lords." And his smile was strained as he fought to hold it for her.

She gazed at him, teardrops swimming around her pained eyes. "On your own?" she asked in a thick voice full of tears, sniffling.

He nodded wordlessly, eyes dipping downward slightly. All of this happening now, it was new. His counterpart had never seen this part, had never been forced to live through it. Perhaps in the end, his counterpart had been nothing more than a coward.

_Coward. Any day._

She held her gaze for a small moment, seeming to steel herself as she inhaled deeply. Even then she seemed to break, a single, "I-" making its way past her lips before she crumbled once more, her shoulders heaving. Bowing her head, she took a second to compose herself, to strengthen herself.

He stared at her, his face blank, jaw clenched.

Lifting her head once more, her cheeks flushed, she cast a quick look out over the churning waters before meeting his eyes again. And she sobbed, almost faltering once more.

"I love you."

He swallowed once, past the lump in his throat as she gazed at him. She knew, his counterpart had told him, and he had been right. Without the memories of losing her one day to the Bad Wolf, he would have made the same wretched mistake as his counterpart, stealing her away from this place and bringing her back, with the knowledge of how to go about it in his head. If not before when she had first asked if she would see him again, then here and now, with her declaration, would he have spirited her away.

And all that he could make out was a faint and broken, "Quite right, too," in response, feeling as if her entire new world was collapsing around him.

She nodded at that, a smile almost making it to her face as they stared at each other on that beach in the gray morning.

He couldn't leave it at that. Even if his counterpart had said that she had known, that she had understood, she deserved so much more than what he had given her as of yet. Eyebrows turning up a bit, he whispered slowly, hesitantly, "And I suppose…"

She waited for him, a small sob forcing her to inhale abruptly, lips trembling as she expelled the breath in a sigh a moment later.

_I suppose I can ask for five hours and come back in two and we can redo that haunted year we shared. Just for one more moment with you._

"If it's my last chance to say it…" His tone seemed to carry almost a pained laugh in its depths, his own frame stiffening a bit as he looked at her.

_If it's my only chance to say it now. Even though you already know._

She waited, a lock of hair finding its way into the corner of her mouth as she breathed hoarsely.

The humor was gone now from him, from his face as he hesitated. Because she _deserved_ to hear him say it, to hear him voice what he had always told her through his embraces and his laughs. His jaw clenched, teeth visible between his parted lips as he seemed to brace himself and he said slowly, "Rose Tyler-"

And he felt it when the power of the supernova failed him. Failed _her_. He felt it when his image was cut and she vanished before his eyes to become the walls of the TARDIS once more. Almost physically, he _felt_ it, like a sharp snap. And he felt his hearts break completely, the breath ripped from him in a single sudden moment. Just like that he was standing on the floor of the TARDIS, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets, a single tear slipping down his gaunt cheek as the words he hadn't gotten a chance to say hovered over his lips. He felt himself move to say them still, those words of response, but even as they formed he closed his mouth on them, eyes slipping closed, head bowing.

_Was I supposed to be able to say them?_

He felt pure anger flood him for a moment, past the overwhelming pain. His counterpart had never told him that they would be cut so abruptly, that he would be left with so much to say still. One more word. One more emotion. One more smile. One more godforsaken year now ripped from him. His other self had had that year. And while he had his double's memories and was now making his own new memories in this correct timeline, he yearned for that one more year. Yearned to see her still, if nothing else to complete that sentence that had almost made it past his lips.

_One more. Please. Just…one more._

* * *

He had met the elusive Donna Noble that same day. The loud, obnoxious redhead from his alternate's timeline. She had turned out to be a bit louder than he had expected her to be. But in the end, after saving the world, after she had helped _him_ even though he would never have admitted it to her, he had dropped her off at her home.

_"And I'm ok with it…because I know that they're going to take care of you. All those people I saw, doing all those things with you instead of me…they're taking care of you. In my place. And I'm ok with it. Because I know you're going to be ok…"_

He had summoned snow that night, seeing it come down and somehow never feeling more alone. Donna had asked him to stay for dinner after she had turned down his offer to travel with him. He hadn't meant to throw out the offer the way he had. He still didn't know why he had. But then she had asked him to find someone even after he had stated, quite flatly, that he didn't _need_ anyone.

_Because I think sometimes you need somebody to stop you._

He had felt the loneliness descend upon him once more at her words. Once upon a time there had been someone to stop him. No longer. And Donna also had been so human, so honest with him. She had feared traveling with him, feared merely being around him. A stranger, she had called him. That's what he was then, a stranger standing on the face of _her_ planet. After everything he had ever done for the people of Earth, he was still a stranger.

He had found it odd that she would have felt that about him. In his alternate timeline, she had been a companion, had traveled with him. Perhaps he had expected her to be the same person then. Or perhaps the events of the alternate timeline had _made_ her that person, that person who would become a companion. Whatever the case, he had been slightly taken aback when she had refused his offer.

He had almost been looking forward to having had Donna Noble as a companion.

When she had asked him for the name of his former companion, of the friend he had lost, he had tried so hard. Yet when her name came out, when he had spoken her name aloud after having successfully pushed away the mere memory of her to the back of his head, he had nearly faltered. Her name had come out thickly, a suspicious warmth in his eyes.

_"Her name was Rose."_

And then he had finally left Donna. That had been Christmas Day. He had spent the previous Christmas with Rose. How quickly things changed.

* * *

He had come to the realization not too long after the events of Bad Wolf Bay and Christmas. He had remembered what day it was and he had felt sickness course through him, bile almost rising in his throat.

While operating the TARDIS in silence, he had found strange readings in the timeline that had brought his attention to incidents he had needed to deal with. One such incident had involved an alien in human guise. With a straw. One who had broken interstellar law and had brought the fight onto the humans' turf in a hospital. That incident had called to him and he had dealt with it well, with the help of one Martha Jones. A companion he would be going back for shortly. He would offer her a trip, one trip. As thanks for her help in the hospital on the moon. Maybe more than one trip. But that was it. Because he didn't need anyone.

Donna Noble. Fantastic if a bit loud. And Martha Jones. Purposeful and ever so brilliant. Exactly what he had been expecting. Time was, no doubt, progressing as it was meant to.

But the realization he'd had that day, it had to deal with a memory he had been sent. A recollection of Rose telling his alternate counterpart of her splintered memory in that ill-fated timeline. He was to go back somewhere and fulfill an unasked promise before he caught up with Martha later that night.

And so, that afternoon, after the hospital was once more firmly on Earth, he found himself taking off his blue suit and pulling on his brown suit and white trainers. He straightened his tie, checked his wild hair and finally he stepped out into the evening. He had somewhere he needed to be and a date he needed to keep.

_"She took a walk, went to a café, she said. Saw an image of me. Of you. Was never me."_

The woman's lilting voice carried to him, reached him when he still had a few blocks to go. And Rose had been right. The woman's voice had been haunting, Rose had told his counterpart. Tender, painful and beautifully haunting. Raw. He rounded the corner and encountered the cafe just as she had described it. So innocent in this world. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair and he inhaled deeply, smelling her for a moment on it. Soft and sweet.

She had been _so_ human.

Taking an empty seat at the nearest table, he motioned for the waitress and ordered a tea, taking off his long coat and folding it over the back of the chair. Loosening his tie, he sat down slowly, feeling as if the world was yet again on his shoulders. And once more, all was as it was supposed to be. After this he would take a moment in her old flat, curl up on her bed as the sun set and watch it die for the night, in hopes of hearing her voice whispering against his ear, ghostly arms wrapping around him from behind. Then he would be on his way to find Martha Jones.

Listening to the woman's soft voice distractedly, hearing her sing in French, he understood the words of the song. It was just as sad as it seemed. She sang of a man lost at sea as his wife waited for him at home, at the shore. He closed his eyes as he listened, was aware but was so far away when the waitress put his tea down before him silently so as not to disturb him.

There was nothing else that could ever disturb him. He had been through so much already that he feared one day he would be immune to it all. But he hoped not. There was still so much out there for him to see, to discover. And he would find someone else to take with him. Not someone to replace her. Never. But someone to make the trip less lonesome.

Leaning his head back, he heard it then. He thought he did. The gentle whisper on the wind, her voice, murmuring his name questioningly. And maybe she called to him from her shore. Perhaps she was the embodiment of the wife who was fated to wait for him forever even when she knew he would never be able to return to her, be it on a shore or on a gray beach. How hauntingly similar. Maybe he was the husband lost at sea, lost in another world. Two lovers forever separated by an invisible wall, the churning sea bordering a dark beach. Bad Wolf Bay. Or perhaps separated by mere consequences from actions they had been forced to take. The vision stirred in his head, of Rose on the pale beach, her head bowed into her hands, her shoulders shaking as she wept. He felt heat rise inside him, painful, washing over his hearts even as her whisper on the wind grazed his cheeks, murmuring his name gently. Not even his real name. He hadn't been able to give her that ever.

_That's who we are, isn't it, Rose? That's who we've become, that woman waiting by the shore, on that beach. That man lost out on the sea, lost in another world. That's us in the end._

Turning his head and opening his eyes a bit, he glanced to his right, studying the people surrounding him as they sat to listen to the beautiful singer. And then to his left he saw the trees swaying slightly. He felt the wind, tasted _her_ on it. So human. As he closed his eyes again, the singer's haunted voice reaching him once more, he allowed himself to believe deep down that he felt her fingers trail through his hair, curl around the back of his neck and tangle there, ghostly thumb brushing his jaw. Then the faintest pressure on his lips, the barest hint of warmth, and the soaring feeling that rose inside him at the thought that she was with him still. Not stranded far away but so close he could reach out and drag her to him and hold her forever.

His tea grew cold. The French woman ended her set. And he sat there still, for over an hour, held in her invisible embrace, almost hearing her heart pounding against his ear and feeling how vulnerable she had been. How strong. To have only one heart and to be mortal but to risk it all for him, her one life. For him and for the ones she had loved, which included all of the people on the face of her oblivious planet. How she had cared for them without them even knowing who she had been, them and him as well.

And it roused him. He opened his eyes, drawing away from an imagined warmth. He raised his eyes as he would have if she had been there, to look into her golden summer-brown eyes from so close, as he had that night, their last night. Almost unfair that he would have that memory always while she had to revert to her former memories, never understanding that they'd had an additional year together, that they had crossed their own line and had been content with it. In love.

_It's all for you in the end, Rose Tyler._

With an inward nod, pulling away reluctantly but feeling her on that wind still, he sat up and reached into his pocket for some money to pay his check. He had one more pit stop to make, one more moment to tend to, a few more moments in a familiar darkened room, catching her scent on her comforter, on her pillow. Watching the sun fade away into night. Remembering words he had yet to speak and understanding why they fit so perfectly in this world and hadn't fit in that alternate universe when she had joined him in that bed. When she was supposed to join him tonight in her bed, in a dead timeline.

_It's different now. That sunset. It's different. Like it knows you're not here anymore._

And he leaned over. Brushed off his trainers. Stood to his feet and pulled on his coat, straightening his tie once more. One more stop before Martha Jones and the future. One more stop.

Then it would be time to save the world again.


End file.
